DOWN THE STREAM 
OF CIVILIZATION 



% 



DOWN THE STREAM 
OF CIVILIZATION 



BY 

WORDSWORTH DONISTHORPE 



AUTHOR OF 
"INDIVIDUALISM," LAW IN A FREE STATE' 
ETC. ETC. 



With One Hundred and Eight Illustrations 



VMITED STATCS, 



LONDON 
GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED 

SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND 
1898 



Bu,of Latior 




DRAMATIS PERSONS 



Com. . The Commodore of the S.Y. ''Maria'' 

Len . . Hon. Sec. of the B.Y.C. 

Jus . . .A Literary Failure 

Clare A Young 'Varsity Man 

Cassius . . A Rich Banker 

Orlando A Wily Warrior 

RiT . . The Legal Luminary 

Jacko . . .A Midshipmite 



CONTENTS 



CHAP. PAGE 

I. In the Bay of Biscay, O i 

II. The Riviera 23 

III. Napoleon's Nursery 47 

IV. "What of the Ships, O Carthage?" . . 56 
V. The Knights of Malta 80 

VI. Papyrus Land 93 

VII. The Pyramid Builders 121 

VIII. Temple and Tomb 149 

IX. Islam 180 

X. Turkish Welcome at Joppa .... 196 

XI. The Stronghold of Zion 221 

XII. The Jewel of Constantine .... 260 

XIII. Athens 271 

XIV. The Voice of Vesuvius 296 

XV. The Eternal City 309 

XVI. Homeward 323 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



Si earn Yacht "Maria'' . . . . . Frontispiece 

The only Passenger on Board ...... 4 

Le Chdtean d'lf . . . . . . . . . 24 

With Apologies to the French Navy ..... 27 

Loafing about Cannes . . . . . . . . 30 

Pro Rege, lege Grege I . . . . . . . 31 

A Cafe in Monte Carlo ....... 33 

Virtue its own Reward . .• . . . . - 36 

Mentone from Italian Side ....... 38 

Flotvering Aloes ......... 39 

A peep in La Tiirhie . . . . . . . . 41 

Fountain in La Turbie ....... 42 

View from Corniche Road . . . . . . . 43 

"Not half a bad Corner'' ....... 44 

Monaco Bay . . . . .... . 45 

Napoleon's House 48 

View from the Bey's Palace ...... 57 

French Gunboat in El Bahira . . . . . . 60 

The honest Merchant . . . . . . . . 63 

C(fctits . 66 

xi 



List of Illustrations 

PAGE 

Cathedral on the Ruins of Cartilage ..... 67 

To Saint Louis ......... 70 

Museum Garden ......... 72 

On the Horns of a Trilemma ...... 73 

Arsenal Quay, Malta 83 

She means to keep ?7 ........ 85 

A more modern Weapon of JVar. 89 

Den Quixote ......... 91 

Some big Holes ......... 96 

Policeman Pompey's Pillar . . ... . . . 97 

Lord Cromer ealls on the Gaeh-voar ..... 103 

Khedive's Palace at Alexandua ...... 105 

Selim Gazziri . . . . . . . . .108 

A young Nubian . . . . . . . . .111 

A Funeral .......... 112 

Marching past Shepheard's Hotel . . . . .114 

The " Nitocris 122 

Sailing do am . . . 125 

The oldest Building in the World 129 

Ninety years in the Desert . . . . . . .131 

The Triumph of Mind over Matter 134 

The great " City " of Memphis ! 137 

An island Home 141 

Singing "Daisy Bell" 144 

Hu ? 145 

Children of the 200th Generation 147 

Ibrahim Pasha .151 

Pastoral Scene at B en i -Hasan 152 

The Composer 155 

The Man at the Wheel .... • • I57 

xii 



List of Illustrations 



Mahomedan Cemetery . . . . . . . -159 

Asyut Market-place ........ i6i 

Shopping in Asyut . . . . . . . .163 

Bedouins at Qeneh . . . . . . . .165 

Bedouins at Home . . . . . . . .166 

Cleopatra .......... 167 

Rather like a broken-down Cotton Factory'^ . . . 168 
Cambyses beheads the Statues ...... 169 

Hatshepsefs Obelisk at Karnac . . . . . .170 

Tombs of the Kings ........ 171 

I71 the Tomb of ''The Rosy Belle'' . . . . . 173 

Pylon at Luxor . . . . . . . . . 175 

True Arabs are scrupulously clean . . . . . i^j^j 

Ploughing 181 

Ships of the Desert . . . . . . . .183 

Cargo of Water -jars . . . . . . .185 

Arab Hut 188 

Mosque at Asyut . .189 

A Child of the Desert 191 

Village on the Bank 193 

The Desert as it really is . . . . . . .194 

At Phila . . . 197 

" Ver good Donkey. I am your Friend " . . . . 198 

Shooting the Cataract 199 

Entrance to Cataract 200 

Aswan . 201 

Edfu from the Plyon ........ 202 

Kom-Ombo . 203 

Kom-Ombo .......... 204 

Poem, Goddess, and Chocolate Cream ! 205 

xiii 



List of Illustrations 

PAGE 

Convicts at Asivan ........ 207 

Ancient Memories 208 

Jfoppa 211 

Street in Jerusalem 223 

Colonnade on the Platform 227 

Dome of the Rock . . 231 

The Rock .......... 235 

The " ToK'er of David ^' . 239 

The J eves' WaUing-place ....... 243 

Gethsemane .......... 249 

Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives ..... 253 

Gordon s Calvary ........ 257 

A Turkish Man-of-zvar ....... 265 

The Pirmis . . . 275 

Temple of T lie sens and Acropolis . . . . . .281 

The Erechtheum ......... 283 

Caryatides 285 

The Parthenon 287 

The Areiopagus 289 

Temple of Jupiter . 292 

In the Gulf of Corinth 294 

A House in Pompeii 299 

Vesuvius fro7n Pompeii 303 

Daughters of Re a Silvia 311 

The Vatican Gardens 317 

Galileo's Post of Vantage 325 

Mentone from the Sea . 327 

The last Committee Meeting 329 



xiv 



DOWN THE STREAM OF 
CIVILIZATION 

CHAPTER I 

IN THE BAY OF BISCAY. O 

Do you know I have been thinking it wouldn't be a 
bad idea just to sail quietly down the stream of civiliza- 
tion," said the Com., poking the fire, as it were to cast 
a ruddier gleam on the pictures in his mind's eye. 

What do you mean ? " inquired the Literary Failure, 
looking up from the chess-board on which he was 
struggling with rather a nasty attack—" down the stream 
of civihzation? I suppose we are always doing that, 
eh?" 

"You don't quite follow me," continued the Com. 
meditatively ; " what I mean is, why not let you and me 
and a few more go off and have a peep at what is left of 
the cradle of history in Egypt, and then slip over to 
where the Hebrews carried on the work at Jerusalem, 
and then run over to Athens and see for ourselves, at 
first hand so to speak, what the Greeks made of it ; we 
might drop in, on the way in or out, at Carthage or 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Tyre, and glance at the Plains of Troy, and then finish 
up at R ome. After Rome, I suppose Paris and London 
may be said to illustrate how the ball was kept rolhng : 
but we are pretty familiar with them.'"' 

'•'That is a heavy order,'"' said the Literary Failure ; 
'"but if you are really serious it is a grand idea. How 
do you propose to do it ? "' 

''Oh, to take it easy." replied the Com., as though he 
contemplated a stroll in Epping Forest. " Suppose we 
join the yacht at ^Marseilles, and potter about the Riviera 
for a week or ten days, and then cross over by Corsica 
to Africa — say Tunis ; from there we might nip across to 
Malta, and so on to Alexandria. The Maria could wait 
for us there, or at Port Said, while we went to Cairo, 
chartered a good dahabieh, and went up the Nile to the 
first or second cataract and back : after which we could 
rejoin the yacht and steam across to Joppa for Jerusalem. 
How would that do ? " 

"Splendid, of course: but " and Jus paused for 

breath. For just as we speak of the mind's eye, so we 
may speak of the mind's breath ; and. truth to tell, the 
scheme, so suddenly sprung upon him, had taken his 
breath away. " What about time ? "" he continued. 

" Well," said the Com., " the fact is, I mean to take a 
holiday, and I fancy a look round would do me a lot of 
good. I am not particular to a month or so — and you ? " 

The Literary Failure smiled. Oh, I am all right ; 
I can easily spare the rest of my natural life for such a 
trip^ as you call it ; you know I belong to that much- 
misrepresented class, the Unemployed : but what about 
the others ? Whom do you propose to ask ? "" 

"So far I have sounded Cassius — you know whom I 

2 



In the Bay of Biscay, O 

mean : the Devonshire banker — he is ready to come ; and 
I don't think our friend, the Wily Warrior, will raise 
insuperable objections ; then what about the Hon. Sec. ? 
He is a good sort. And I will take my nephew Clare." 

"Good," exclaimed the Literary Failure ; "we must 
see the effect on the * opening flower ' as the poet hath 
it : you and I are getting into the fogey stage." 

" Speak for yourself," retorted the Com., with the air 
of one who was quite prepared to conduct an expedition 
to the South Pole, " I am all right ; " and then, after a 
pause, " I wonder whether the Legal Luminary could 
find time to come." 

" What tonnage is your yacht ? " asked Jus. 

" Eight hundred and thirteen, and thirteen knots, but 
she can do eighteen at a pinch." 

" Rather large for a small party." 

" All the more room," was the reply : " I like plenty of 
elbow-room." 

"Certainly, I hate a crowd: it is like a big com- 
mittee : too much talking — divided counsels ; seven or 
eight make a pleasant party." 

And so it was settled. There was to be a banquet at 
the club on October 22nd, and on the following day the 
rendezvous was at Victoria Station at eleven in the fore- 
noon. Meantime the yacht was sent round from South- 
ampton to Marseilles with one passenger on board, 
named Jacko. How it came about that the party was 
so small, so extremely small at starting (for Jacko stood 
only one foot six in his stockings), was due to a chapter 
of accidents. It happened in this wise. On the night 
of the banquet it became manifest that, although the 
eight members of the party (eight counting Jacko) 

3 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

differed in opinion on many points, political, religious, 
scientific, and artistic, as parties of eight always do if 
they have any grit in them, yet on one point they were 




THE ONLY PASSENGER OX BOARD 



unanimous : they all longed to go round by the Bay of 
Biscay. 

Said the Legal Luminary, " There is nothing I should 
enjoy more, but unfortunately I have some very im- 
portant business in Paris ; so I must kill two birds with 
one stone, and join the yacht at JMarseilles/" 

Ah,"' said the Wily Warrior, "there is nothing equal 
4 



In the Bay of Biscay, O 

to it ; but you see I have done it once, when I was in- 
vahded home from Egypt, after bleeding for my Queen 
and country, and, as I have never seen Lyons, I think I 
will go overland, just for a change." 

To cross the Bay of Biscay in a good yacht has been 
the dream of my life," said the Literary Failure," especially 
about the end of October, but really I have such a lot of 
things to settle up before leaving home that I shall 
never be able to reach Southampton in time to start. 
It is a great nuisance, but there is no help for it." 

I had quite decided to go by the Bay," said the 
'Varsity Man mournfully, but my aunt is such an awful 
funk : she firmly beheves that nine persons are drowned 
out of every ten who cross the Bay of Biscay ; and she 
made me swear I would join at Marseilles : it's fearful 
rot, but what is a fellow to do ? " 

" How I envy you fellows ! " said the Rich Banker. 
''You can take as much time as you like, but my 
time is limited; and I think it is my duty to take 
it out at the other end — that is to say, in Egypt — ^rather 
than at the beginning, even though I have to miss that 
glorious cruise in the Atlantic." 

"Well, of course," said the Com., "if you are all 
determined to go overland, I suppose I must do so 
too. You know what those fellows are. They will 
be so much more free and easy by themselves that 
it seems a pity to put them on pipe-clay for the sake 
of one. But there is nothing like the Bay, so long as 
you keep a stiff upper lip." 

So we all went to Paris, and the Maria went round 
by the Bay with the crew and Jacko. Nothing eventful 
occurred at Victoria, except that the Wily One encountered 

5 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



a fellow he had not met for fifteen years. We afterwards 
discovered that he did this at every place we stopped at, 
not only in Europe, but in the hills of Judaea and in the 
Libyan Desert. 

Most 'strornary thing I ever knew in my life," he 
said, " meetin' that man. Would you believe it, I have 
never seen him since I left Llanwyddlanelliponty- 
fechan." 

" It seems to me," said the Hon. Sec, it would have 
been still more extraordinary if you had 7iot seen him, 
considering you were both struggling to take tickets at 
the same booking-office at the same moment." That is 
what I do not like about the Hon. Sec. — he always throws 
cold water upon one's bubbles of enthusiasm. It is not 
right. 

I forget the precise moment at which the train got 
under way — as Cassius expressed it — but as all the 
others have it down, I must refer the reader to them. 
I have got a watch. Make no mistake about that. It 
is only a silver one, but it keeps time — within reason. 
Otherwise how could I keep a regulation narrative of 
this voyage ? You all know how to do it : Up at 6.15 ; 
breakfast at 8; arrive at Stick-in-the-mud at 11.27; go 
ashore; back at 6.20 for dinner at 7.0; bed at 10.30." 

This, which I regard as the highest order of traveller's 
journal, is one to which I cannot aspire, because, as I 
have said, my watch is only a silver one. But other 
members of our party kept proper journals, hke the 
above, and they will be published in due course. 

Again, a watch is absolutely necessary if you wish 
to take part in the wrangle which invariably develops 
whenever you arrive at or depart from a place. 

6 



In the Bay of Biscay, 

" Moving at last," quoth the Rich Banker. " Eleven- 
three ; that is three minutes late." 

''Excuse me," said the Hon. Sec, "I make it 11.2, 
and I set my watch by Greenwich yesterday. What do 
you say. Com. ? " 

The Com. carefully examined his timepiece, and ex- 
pressed an opinion at variance with both ; and at the 
end of ten minutes' debate all three disputants fell 
asleep, while their watches went on ticking angrily in 
their pockets till Rochester was reached. This place 
was rendered memorable by being the first at which 
the Wily Warrior told us the cemetery story. It is a 
capital yarn, and we all laughed. He told it again in 
the Bois de Boulogne, and several of us laughed. And 
then, after leaving Toulon, he told it a third time and 
laughed heartily. But he never told it after that, which 
is a pity, for it is a good story. We reached Dover 
precisely thirty-seven seconds after the moment predicted 
by the punctilious Bradshaw. So I beheve, but the Com. 
said thirty-nine. 

" You will be good enough to observe," he continued 
severely, "that my watch is of gold, eighteen, if not 
nineteen, carats fine, whereas yours is apparendy of 
pewter, and certainly never passed the sixth standard." 

"What does it matter?" the Hon. Sec. interposed; 
" we are in plenty of time to catch the boat, anyhow." 
But the Hon. Sec. is un homme serieux. 

Sir Edward Watkin's tunnel having been nipped in 
the bud by trembling Englishmen fearful of a French 
invasion, and there being no regular balloon service 
across the Channel at present, we were constrained to 
make the passage by water. Fortunately we are all 

7 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



excellent sailors. Our party was broken up, and at 
one time we feared the boat ^Yould suffer a like fate; 
but it managed to hold out as far as Calais. The Legal 
Luminary took up a strong position amidships, and 
seemed absorbed in introspection. Like little Mary, 
'^he had his little porringer," but, unlike her, "he eat 
no supper there."" There are thues when the carnal 
indulgence of eating is repugnant to the contemplative 
mind of poet and philosopher. The Rich Banker w^as 
everywhere. AVith his yachting cap cocked jauntily on 
one side, and with a complexion which seemed to 
borrow a pale green hue from the reflection of the 
waves, he lurched about in search of his sea-legs, 
whistling ''Tom Bowling," to the intense envy and 
admiration of the "Varsity ]\Ian, who stood ankle-deep 
in a puddle of salt water without apparently being 
conscious of it. The Com. was forward, playing his 
accustomed role of figure-head and drinking in the briny 
breeze ; while the Hon. Sec. and the Literary Failure 
took root-hold near the stern of the vessel — w^hich the 
reader will be good enough to pronounce " starn "" when 
reading aloud. For three parts of the journey they 
exchanged congratulations on their respective possession 
of cast-iron stomachs : they chaffed the "Varsity ]\Ian ; 
they wondered what had become of the Wily Warrior ; 
they glanced at the Legal Luminary and winked signifi- 
cantly. But at length silence supervened ; the Hon. Sec. 
ducked mysteriously under a rope on to forbidden ground. 

" Come out of that ! " cried a red-faced sailor, and 
the Hon. Sec. came out. 

"What were you trying to do?'' asked the Literary 
Failure with a hmp smile. 

8 



In the Bay of Biscay, O 

Nothing/' faltered the Hon. Sec, and the conversa- 
tion flagged again. 

We were, of course, all sorry to reach Calais. English 
people do not as a rule drink brandy with their lunch : 
but when in Rome, do as Rome does. Now the people 
of Calais — or at any rate a majority of those in the 
Calais refreshment room — do drink brandy with their 
lunch, and so, not to be eccentric, we did the same. 
After the customary wrangle about luggage, which I 
mention merely in order to drag in the Com.'s pun, we 
started for Paris punctually at — well, we started for Paris. 
The " exact time " debate was already beginning to pall, 
so the conversation took the form, the usual form, of 
capping each other's recollections of dodging the douane. 
One man had smuggled ten pounds of honeydew into 
France by the artful device of stuffing it into an un- 
locked hatbox and losing the key of a suspicious-looking 
bag. Naturally the huffle-heeided prepose declined to ex- 
amine any of his baggage except the bag of the lost key. 
This being found, after an exhaustive search, the tobacco 
romped in triumphantly. Another had successfully piloted 
a hamper from Cologne to Charing Cross, containing 
eight soda-water bottles, one of which was open and 
half full of soda water, while the remaining seven were 
well wired down and full of eau-de-cologne. After these 
stories had reached the point at which nobody believed 
a word of them, as they always do — the Legal Luminary 
trotted up his little lot. He had never done anything 
very brilliant in that line himself, he said, but a friend of 
his once did a smart thing. This gave the smuggling 
yarn a new lease of life ; until the nefarious, albeit thrill- 
ing adventures of friends, cousins, and aunts had also 

9 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



reached saturation-point. Finally, even the friends 
dropped out, the reflected glory of knowing the hero 
was cast to the winds, and-all the old smuggling chestnuts 
rolled down the slippery hour, till the Com. suggested 
poker as an agreeable change. Poker, with the assist- 
ance of cold chickens, claret, and big pears, lasted till the 
straggling lights of the outskirts of Paris increased in 
number and intensity and the " Gare du Xord Station " 
(as Rit pointed out) could not be far off. 

As luck would have it, we all lost at poker. Some say 
this cannot be, but I have observed it on so many occa- 
sions that I feel bound to admit the force of the old 
saying, "One ounce of fact is worth a ton of theory." 
Another pleasing feature of this game is the witticisms to 
which it gives rise. For example, the Wily One per- 
sisted in addressing the Rich Banker and the Hon. Sec. 
as Bryant and May, and they retorted by calling him 
Griffith. Of course, everybody roared at these sallies ; 
but I have never been able to fathom them. The 
Literary Failure was of opinion that beggar-my-neigh- 
bour and old-maid are in some respects more satis- 
factory games than poker. "Anyhow," said he, "I 
should have been more lucratively employed sowing 
corks on the seashore."'" This gentleman was always 
asking why the game is called poker. One day in the 
hall of Shepheard"s Hotel in Cairo (if I may be allowed 
to "'get afore my tale"") he endeavoured to obtain an 
answer to this question from an American, who looked 
as though he might know. 

" I beheve,'"'" said he, "that poker is a game which is a 
good deal played in America ? " 

" Some,"" was the laconic reply. 

lO 



In the Bay of Biscay, O 

" In that case, perhaps you can tell me why poker is 
called poker ? " 

" What ails you, sir ? " answered the Yankee. If you 
are trying to get your latest off on me, I'm not dealing." 

" Of course not ; that is obvious," persisted his inter- 
locutor. I am not inviting you to play, but merely 
asking whether you can assign a reason for the name." 

Why," came the answer in crescendo tones, ^'why 
is cricket called cricket ? Why are cocktails called cock- 
tails ? Why is anything called anything ? I recommend 
you to consult a doctor, sir." 

And he did ; but the doctor could not tell, because he 
did not know. 

Of course we drove off at once to the Hotel de 
I'Athenee. W^hen I say " of course," I mean that there 
were no reasons why we should not, and several reasons 
why we should. To begin with, it is as unlike the 
monster hotels of London and New York as a lady's 
boudoir is unlike the waiting-room at a railway station. 
You are known, not by your number, but by your name. 
Again (and, as I expect to be read by more millions of 
English than of foreign readers, perhaps I should have 
put this first) the cuisine is the best in Paris ; the wines 
are excellent, and even the cigars are good. But to me 
the chief charm of the hotel is the absence of all furniture 
and fittings of the railway-director type — no mammoth 
scagliola columns ; no Brobdingnagian chimney-pieces ; 
no Cyclopean clocks, like the sarcophagi in the Sera- 
peum. My own bedroom, with its drapery of heliotrope 
and glaucus-blue cunningly blended, and its air of re- 
finement and repose, was in itself a work of art — com- 
plete without fussiness. The previous night I had slept, 

II 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



or tried to sleep, at one of the billionaire barracks in 
Northumberland Avenue. There, my bedroom had been 
undertaken " by a contractor. The barren acres of 
hideously papered walls were rendered still more oppres- 
sively bare by a couple of crude chromos over the wash- 
stand and mantel-shelf. The latter funereal structure 
was relieved by a pair of cast-iron vases and a composite 
match-box and ash-tray of sham bronze. On the dress- 
ing-table was an elegant assortment of illuminated cards 
in brilliant colours and variegated type, setting forth the 
virtues of the wares in the neighbouring shops. The 
rooms on each side of me differed from mine only in 
having another number on the door. I need hardly say 
that the change from the Enghsh to the French hotel 
did not greatly stimulate my insular pride. 

I have said that it was our intention to pass through 
Paris on our way to Marseilles : but what need was there 
for hurry ? 

" Why hustle ourselves ? " asked the Hon. Sec, with 
the air of a man who does not fear contradiction. 

" Ah ! why ? " chimed in Rit and the Wily One in 
chorus. The Rich Banker smiled. 

"Upon my word,"' said the Com., as though a new 
light had broken in upon his soul, " now that we are here, 
we may as well have a look round for a day or two. 
The Maria will want some doing to, and then there is 
the coaling. Of course the Bay would have been 
my " 

" Of course, of course," echoed every man of the 
party. 

" Still," added the Literary Failure, " we are not bound 
to break our necks just because we are not yet drowned." 



In the Bay of Biscay, O 

And so it was settled, and the next four days were spent 
in Paris. 

Meanwhile the Maria encountered some very foul 
weather in the Channel and in the Bay ; and what the 
solitary passenger, Jacko, must have suffered will never 
be known. By the time he arrived at Marseilles he had 
forgotten all about it, or at all events he never referred to 
it. Perhaps he was a little bit ashamed. 

What we did in those days forms no part of this 
treatise, which, as we know, is of a strictly scientific 
nature. What we left undone is better worth mention. 
We visited no tombs, churches, picture galleries, nor 
catacombs — not even the dear old Morgue. We did not 
attend the race meeting at Chantilly, neither did we 
ascend the Eiffel Tower. In short, we did just what 
other people do when they do not happen to be British 
tourists. 

There were two exceptions to this rule. The 'Varsity 
Man went to the Musee Grevin, and came back with a 
fixed conviction that the murderer's lot is an unenviable 
one. He registered a solemn vow never to tread the 
downward path, and, what is more, he kept it — for days, 
if not for weeks. 

Then the Wily One had never visited the last resting- 
place of his brother warrior. Napoleon the Great ! He 
therefore inveigled the Literary Failure into a pilgrimage 
to the Hotel des Invalides. From him, and from an 
ancient veteran who sits at the door of the tomb, he 
learned much that may be of great use to him in after 
life^ — all about the French Revolution and the Napoleonic 
wars ; all about St. Helena and the depth of the Atlantic 
Ocean ; all about embalming the dead, and how it was 

13 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

done by the early Egyptians (he aftenvards bought a 
mummy of his own), and all about the strained relations 
presently subsisting between England and France in the 
matter of modern Egypt. On all these matters Jus told 
him all he knew and a great deal more. The veteran at 
the door told him the precise weight of the said door. 
I think it was 2300 kilogrammes. The AVarrior was a 
bit staggered at this. ''Dear, dear,"'" he said, "that 
must be tremendously heavy ; by the way, what is a 
kilogramme?"'" ''Half a ton,"" answered his companion 
promptly in English, and the veteran did not contradict. 
That door will be heard of in Wales. 

Once upon a time three soldiers were walking 
together. "We always dine at eight,'"" remarked the 
Hussar languidly. "Do you really?'"" drawled the 
Guardsman, drawing himself up to his full height ; 
" we never dine before nine.'"' '• Haw, demmy,"" said 
the mihtiaman, not to be beaten, " zt'^ never dine at 
all, don't you know."' This venerable wheeze reminds 
me that we had all contracted a habit in our mother 
country of dining somewhere every evening; and 
as each one of us knew where to go better than 
any other member of the party, the result was that we 
never dined twice in the same place. It was on 
October 25 that the Com. invited us all to dine at 
Joseph's, or, more accurately, at the Restaurant de 
Marivaux. We had just sat out a billiard-match at 
Vigneaux", who seemed to be in training for the post 
of stoker in some future state of existence; and we 
had also spent a niaircais quart cV lie ure in that compound 
of Eabel and Pandemonium called the Paris Bourse ; 
and consequently were in a humour to appreciate both 

14 



In the Bay of Biscay, O 

cooling streams and also the sweet silent sigh of music 
far away — 

" Music which gentlier on the spirit lies 
Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes." 

After the best dinner conceivable — in my opinion, 
and, indeed, in ''all of our opinion" — we heard pleasing 
strains issuing from an adjoining room. It turned out 
to be a select company of instrumentahsts from the 
Conservatoire retained to entertain a party of his friends 
by Prince Henri d'Orle'ans. The Prince was good 
enough to allow them to come in and play to us. 
They were all arrayed in the costume of the Louis 
Quinze period ; and it would be impossible to over-praise 
the skill, taste, and feehng of the performers. Although 
music all through dinner is apt to distract the conver- 
sation — and, after all, as Cicero observed, the main object 
of a feast is, or should be, convivium non concce?iatio — 
yet nothing is more sensuously delightful than a blend 
of perfect music, excellent wine, and (forgive me, my 
port-sipping friend) a good cigar, immediately after 
dinner, provided always that somebody else pays for 
them. 

It was a happy accident that furnished us with such a 
blend. When the repast was over, M. Joseph, as usual, 
presented himself, and expressed a hope that his labours 
had not been in vain. 

"Ah," said the Com., ''there is no cook like a French 
cook." 

" Except an English one," added Joseph urbanely, 
with a bow. 

"Not in it," protested the Warrior, and the sentiment 
was endorsed by all. Joseph's eye twinkled. 

15 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



''As for myself,'*" he remarked slowly, "I had the 
honour to be born in Bi7nningham ! 

"That's a bit of a knock-out,"' said Orlando. There 
is a report that at one time ^I. Joseph was permanently 
retained at a very large salary by an American million- 
aire : but one day his patron went so far as to add a 
pinch of pepper to the soup. This was more than our 
artist could bear. He broke off the engagement, and 
returned to his beloved France, where people thoroughly 
understand that the precise quantity of pepper added to 
soup by ]M. Joseph is the correct quantity. And so it is. 
]\[eissonier once accepted an American offer for one of 
his masterpieces on condition that he would add a foot 
or two to his canvas and paint in a bigger crowd. But 
some artists are more accommodating than others, and 
I am disposed to agree with Joseph. Oh that divine 
duck: 

Oh, memory, fond memory," sang Cassius long after- 
wards between his sips of Burgundy, when all things 
fail, I fly-y-y-y-y to thee 1 

If I thought that any one of my readers was a gourmet 
I would append the menu : but anyhovr, when next he 
has occasion to run over to Paris (of course strictly on 
business) let him hie him to Joseph's, and order the 
identical dinner that we had.* He can take this Tome 
with him, as a guarantee of good faith, and if he is not 
satisfied with the dinner and himself and all mankind, I 
will undertake to send him a copy of my work on 
''Esoteric Therapeutics." 

Prince Henry"s duel with the Count of Turin was then 

" Since this was written, Joseph has introduced the Art of 
Cookery into the adjoining island of Great Britain. 

i6 



In the Bay of Biscay, O 

fresh in the pubhc mind, and it was significant to con- 
trast the languid and even contemptuous tone adopted 
by his countrymen towards their self-appointed champion 
with the enthusiastic interest taken in the encounter by 
all classes of Italians. 

Some months later we had an opportunity of making 
the comparison, when the Count arrived at Naples during 
our stay there. He had just received promotion, and 
was the hero of the hour. One Italian gentleman went 
so far as to exclaim, " If the Frenchman had been 
victorious, it was all up with Italy ; " — a sentiment worthy 
of the days of Ivanhoe. 

On the following day came the first wrench in a cruise 
of vicissitudes. Circumstances over which he had no 
control required the immediate return of the Legal 
Luminary to England. 

" Lives of great men all remind us we may make our lives 
sublime, 

And departing leave behind us footprints." 

Having no spare footprints about him, he reluctantly 
surrendered into the hands of the Literary Failure his 
Portfolio of Law. In short, Rit's recall occasioned a 
partial reconstruction of our Cabinet. And this seems 
to be the proper place in which to explain the real nature 
of our enterprise and the division of the labour which it 
entailed. The Com. was told off to inquire into the 
Industrial Organisation of the various countries to be 
visited — both Ancient and Modern. The Wily Warrior 
undertook their Military Organisation. The Rich Banker, 
of course, occupied himself with their Financial position. 
The Legal Luminary was entrusted with the analysis and 

17 B 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

classification of the Laws of All Nations, from those of 
Mena to those of the Principality of Monaco. The Hon. 
Sec.'s Portfolio was that of Art, for which purpose he had 
armed himself with a photographic camera of no mean 
order, afterwards known as Len's lens. The 'Varsity Man 
was retained to report on the state of Sport in Memphis, 
Jerusalem, Carthage, and other sporting centres. While 
naturally to the Literary Failure fell the province of 
Literature and the Drama. It would be invidious to 
forestall the publication of the voluminous and interesting 
Reports of this representative Commission ; but I may be 
permitted to remark that our Minister of Sport found 
traces of golf balls in the Mountains of Judaea, and what 
he believes to be the remains of an extinct tennis racquet 
at Pompeii ; while the Minister of Art took an excellent 
photograph of Menephtha as he appeared before his Httle 
accident in the Pvcd Sea, and another as he appeared after 
that disaster. However, as I have said, it fell to the lot 
of the Literary Failure to combine the Portfolios of Law 
and Literature ; for the former of which he was held to 
be qualified by having at some remote period been called 
to the Bar, or something of that kind. At any rate there 
was a tradition to that effect. So the Legal Luminary 
departed. "Adieu," he said. Comme ca vaV and 
then, in broken accents, " inais ftiniporte,^^ And before 
we had time to hunt out suitable responses in " The 
Traveller's Manual of Conversation " he was gone. We 
brushed away five tears, and hastened to the Folies 
Bergeres in search of distraction. 

Next day we had to catch the early train to Marseilles. 
Catch the train ! What a flood of turgid memories the 
phrase revives ! Society may be divided into three 

i8 



In the Bay of Biscay, O 

genera, distinguished by their mode of catching the 
train. Regard well that elderly lady, whose carriage was 
at the door a full hour before the time deemed necessary 
by her coachman. After a sleepless night, and many 
columns of anxious converse with her maid, she reaches 
the station in ample time, but hardly in a fit temper, to 
read through "Paradise Lost" before the train is due. 
She devotes the agonising interval to comparing her own 
watch with the station clock; to making barren pilgrimages 
to the unopened booking office ; to interrogating sundry 
porters, a stray postman and a uniformed volunteer as to 
the platform on which she should stand ; and to counting 
and recounting her heterogeneous packages. At length, 
the tickets having been taken, the change counted and 
returned to the purse, an inventory of her goods and 
chattels made and certified by the obliging porter and 
weary maid, for the twentieth time, and her place in the 
still empty first-class compartment secured, she sinks 
back into the cushioned seat ten minutes before the 
train starts, with a deep sense of relief which lasts inter- 
mittently till within half an hour of her destination. 
Then the curtain rises on Act II. of what is really and 
truly a harrowing drama. Dear Lady Reader, have you 
ever been one of the dramatis personce in such a tragedy ? 
If so, take your pen and sit down quickly and send the 
present writer a postcard testifying to the fidelity of his 
picture. You have no idea how a little kind apprecia- 
tion encourages a struggling author. By the way, if you 
think it will run to a proper letter with a penny stamp on 
it, you might address it "Care of Publisher"; and you 
might enclose an order for a few copies of this WORK. 
But don't mind me. . . . However, to wake up from 

19 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



this dream of sympathy. Genus Two of those who catch 
the train is well represented by the City IMan, who, with 
shiny hat and unruffled expression, saunters up the plat- 
form as the minute hand is on the point of time, and 
steps into the moving train with a pleasant nod to the 
porter, and the air of one who takes his seat on a garden- 
chair because he thinks he will, and for no other reason 
whatever. By the time the train is well out of the 
station and the old lady's heart has almost ceased to 
palpitate, he has read through the best part of the latest 
telegrams. 

Our party belongs to the third Genus of those who 
catch the train. It is by far the most objectionable. 
Hence it was that at a quarter to ten of that eventful 
morning, in the peaceful hall of the Athenee, the Rich 
Banker might have been heard casually asking the Hon. 
Sec. whether perhaps we had not better be thinking of 
starting. What time is the train due ? drawled that 
gentleman, cutting off the end of a cigar. 

" Messieurs,"' interjected the hall-porter anxiously, 
''the carriages are waiting," 

Then the Manager came forward, watch in hand. 
•'There is no time to spare," said he, "if you mean to 
catch the lo.io." The fat was now in the fire : serenity 
was suddenly transformed into panic. 

Where's the Com. ? " roared Cassius. 

"That Warrior is always late," muttered the Hon. 
Sec. : "I wonder what the deuce he is doing." The 
cockers took fright and waved their arms, and even the 
street boys outside seemed to catch the alarm fever. 
Waiters swarmed like bees. Bags, portmanteaus, rugs, 
porters, and men in miscellaneous uniforms and caps 

20 



In the Bay of Biscay, O 

whirled about like leaves in a maelstrom. The staircase 
resembled Jacob's ladder. The hope of the whole 
human race appeared to hang upon our catching the 
train. The very visitors caught the Zeitgeist, Each 
asked his neighbour the cause of the commotion, and 
one nervous lady inquired whether the Revolution had 
again broken out. 

"What's the French for 'I can't find a damned 
thing'?" shouted the Warrior from over the ban- 
nisters. 

" Tutto e sciolto'^' responded the Banker in a ringing 
tenor. And the Warrior's voice was heard echoing along 
the corridors, " Tutto e sciolto ; where on earth is my 
hatbox? Confound it ! tutto e sciolto,'' And the nervous 
lady's worst fears were confirmed. 

At last the Com. appeared, hot and red. And five 
seconds later the 'Varsity Man strolled into the hall 
with an expression of surprise at the din and hubbub. 
But those five seconds cost him dear. The others had 
already assembled, and the pent-up impatience of all 
burst forth upon him — -more especially of those who had 
only just preceded him. He afterwards became imper- 
vious to imprecations consequent on his being the last, 
but at that time he felt it bitterly. Unfortunately he 
began to argue. Never argue. It was and always is 
fatal. Even the gentle Cassius rounded on him furiously : 
''If we are late," he said, "as we are sure to be, it will 
be all your fault." But we were not late — that is to say, 
we were late by the clock ; but, having secured a saloon 
carriage in advance, we and our baggage were swept into 
it on the billows of a French tempest, to which the com- 
motion at the hotel was but as a storm in a teacup. 

2 I 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Ha\ing recovered our breath and lighted cigars, we all 
became abnormally good-humoured, and even the in- 
famous "Varsity ^lan was quite popular. Such is the 
third, last, and worst mode of catching the train. 

Nothing eventful occurred on the journey, except that 
the Wily One encountered a man on the platform at 
Lyons whom he had not met for fifteen years. 

Dear, dear,'' said he, it's the funniest thing I ever 
knew in my life. Would you believe it? That fellow's 
name is Williams. He was born within twenty miles of 
my own home at 

" Never mind the name of it,'' interposed the Hon. 
Sec. 

Originally he was intended for the Church," con- 
tinued the Warrior, disregarding the interruption, ^' but 
he got into a mess at Oxford, and had to clear out of the 
country : and then he started journalism or somethin', 
and now he is a most respectable man." 

"Originally intended for the Church," the Hon. Sec. 
repeated slowly, "but now a most respectable man. 
]Most extraordinary ! " 

"' Most ' strornary I ' ''' echoed the Warrior. 

Between Lyons and Valence we travelled on the 
dining-car, and finally we reached ^Marseilles in plenty of 
time to sup and sleep on board the il/^zr/W. (N.B. — The 
name of the yacht is pronounced Mareea.) 



22 



CHAPTER II 

THE RIVIERA 

Marseilles is certainly one of the handsomest seaports 
in the world. I am not going to furnish the reader 
with a rehash of Murray, to whose useful handbooks I 
gladly refer him. I merely wish to record my own per- 
sonal surprise at the glorious colouring of the place. 
The harbours, new and old, cover an area of about one 
hundred and seventy acres, and the great jetty is two 
miles long, very nearly. One is not compelled to admire 
the huge cathedral on the quay, nor yet the clumsy 
Hotel de Ville, in order to appreciate fully the whole 
view, with the hill of Notre Dame dominating the town. 
From where we lay in the steam-launch it resembled a 
glittering white marble city in a setting of sapphire. 
The 'Varsity Man was much attracted by the Chateau 
d'lf, which stands on a small island apart. But then he 
had probably read " Monte Cristo " more recently than 
most of us. The Literary Failure made a few rambling 
remarks about Mirabeau, who was locked up in that 
formidable dungeon ; but Monte Cristo was clearly first 
favourite. " The Palais de Longchamp is certainly the 
finest building in Marseilles," we are told ; and it may be 
so. The name recalls the race-course of that name near 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

Paris. Last century, when Anglomania was at its height, 
the " upper scum " (as our socialist friends call them) 
used to picnic on the race-course in English fashion, 
taking with them dainty hampers of wine and victuals. 



LE CHATEAU D'lF 



These came to be known as Longchamp baskets. They 
are now known in England as luncheon baskets ; and 
the light meal between breakfast and dinner is shortened 
down to lujich. Referring to this period, Carlyle says, 
" Now, no man on a level with his age but will trot 
a r Aiiglaise, rising in his stirrups ; scornful of the old 
sitfast method, in which, according to Shakespeare, 
butter and eggs go to market. Elf jokeis we have seen ; 

24 



The Riviera 



but see now real Yorkshire jockeys, and what they ride 
on and train : English racers for French races. Prince 
d'Artois also has his stud of racers. Prince d'Artois 
has withal the strangest horse leech : a moonstruck, 
much-enduring individual named Jean Paul Marat." 
However, I digress. I have given the acreage of the 
harbours round and about which we prowled in the 
launch. But what is an acre ? Have any of us a very 
clear idea of such a measure ? The best way to form 
such an idea is to picture a small field, long enough for 
a couple of football goals, and just wide enough for a 
cricket-pitch. There are still thousands of such acres 
dotted about over England. And it is a fact (note- 
worthy perhaps) that the form of these old acres, and 
notably of God's-Acre, gave the measure to the games. 
A cricket-pitch is still exactly twenty-two yards long, or 
one chain. After service, the parson used to pass into 
the consecrated play-ground, and take part, according to 
the weather, in football or cricket, on Sundays. John 
Knox prided himself on his skill in the former sport 
And I am glad to see that a clergyman of San Francisco 
has adopted the practice of concluding his sermon with a 
challenge to his parishioners to a bout with the gloves. 
But he will box with those only who have attended the 
service. The innovation dates from the celebrated fight 
between Corbett and Fitzsimons. On the church door 
at Hurley is, or was, a notice requesting boating men to 
attend service in their flannels. This sign of the times 
is one which should be carefully watched ; but it has 
nothing whatever to do with Marseilles : whence we pro- 
ceeded to Toulon. 

Here we were fortunate enough to fall in with the 
25 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



greater part of the French Mediterranean squadron : and 
a magnificent fleet it was. 

" Don't do that." said the Com. anxiously to the 
'Varsity Man, who was taking a Kodak-shot at one of 
the ironclads; "'for Heaven's sake, don't do that."'" It 
transpired that the previous year, when he and one of 
the naval constructors to the British Government were 
cruising in the same neighbourhood, some one had 
actually photographed a ship. This was more than the 
French navy could stand, and the results were appalling. 
I cannot just now remember how many of the party were 
put in irons, but, at all events, the consequences were 
such that the Com. sought to shun a repetition of them. 
But the Banker and the Hon. Sec. were too many for the 
French fleet. They had rigged up a camera at one of 
our portholes in such a way as to resemble a Xordenfelt 
quick-firing gun. It is a singular thing that, although the 
French navy has no fear of any gun afloat, it has a 
morbid dread of a camera. Personally, I would rather 
be pointed at with a Kodak than a thirty-six pounder — 
but there is no accounting for taste. So we got some 
photographs, and good ones too. And we are still at 
large, and far enough away from the Chateau dTf. I 
will not record the Com.'s pun on the name of that 
prison, because every one on board made it indepen- 
dently at least three times on the way to Toulon ; and I 
am getting tired of it. 

On our left (my nautical friends will pardon the ex- 
pression), as we enter Toulon Harbour, rise the heights 
de Caire, from which scowls the Fort Xapoleon. Alto- 
gether this formidable naval port is horribly well fortified, 
and Sir Sidney Smith would have his work set to repeat 

26 



The Riviera 



his little variation of a century ago. As it was, he had 
better have let the place alone. But who could at that 
time foresee that a young gentleman from Corsica was 
coming to teach the English and all other fighting 
peoples what not to do. When it became clear that 



there was nothing for it but the retreat of the British 
ships, their commander wisely determined to set fire to 
the French fleet and arsenal. 

"At eight a fireship was towed into the harbour : at ten 
the torches were applied, and the flames arose in every 
quarter. Notwithstanding the calmness of the night, the 
fire spread with rapidity, and soon reached the fleet, 
where in a short time fifteen ships of the line and eight 






WITH APOLOGIES TO THE FRENXH NAVY 



27 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



frigates were blown up or burnt to the water's edge. 
The volumes of smoke which filled the sky, the flames 
which burst as it were out of the sea and ascended to 
the heavens, the red light which illuminated even the 
most distant mountains, formed, says Bonaparte, a 
subHme and unique spectacle." * 

It would be difficult to find surroundings more 
picturesquely adapted to so grand a conflagration. And 
when we remember that this was Napoleon's first really 
great exploit, one can form some idea of the effect of 
such a scene on his mind : a wild admixture of awful 
beauty and martial glory ! How different from the blood- 
thirsty exultation of that Revolution fiend Freron, who 
was sent to torture the fallen city for its defection. 
Here is his own paean of triumph — the beast! "Tout 
va bien : j'ai requis douze mille macons pour demolir et 
raser la ville : tous les jours je fais tomber deux cents 
tetes : et deja huit cents Toulonnais ont ete fusilles " — 
his own fellow countrymen ! One of them was an old 
man of eighty-four, deaf and half blind, whose only crime 
was his wealth. " When I beheld this old man executed,'' 
said Napoleon, " I felt as if the end of the world was at 
hand." Napoleon did his utmost to arrest the carnage, 
but he was not then in supreme command. This was 
our second point of contact with the story of that greatest" 
of all conquerors. The third was at Ajaccio a few days 
later. 

Before leaving Toulon we wended our way in single 
file through the market-place, a veritable remnant of 
the old world, cheek by jowl with the latest products 

* Alison's " History of Europe." 
28 



The Riviera 



of modern military civilization ! Amongst the miscel- 
laneous cheap wares of the quaint mart, herrings^ bales 
of calico and i^oloured cloths, ribbons, pots and pans, 
slices of melon and pumpkin — I was surprised to see 
hundreds and hundreds of robins and sparrows and 
linnets, all laid out like pigeons and plovers at an English 
poulterer's. I well remember when the agitation was 
first set on foot in favour of a Wild Birds' Protection Act 
that France was pointed to as the shocking example, 
whose reckless destruction of what our children very 
properly call "the dear httle dicky-birds" had resulted 
in their total extinction. I should be sorry to weaken 
any argument in favour of our twittering little friends, 
but I must say my own eyes did not strengthen that 
argument. The fact is, people do not want to extermi- 
nate the " dicky-birds " ; and they may safely be left, 
without State dragooning, to take care that their numbers 
are kept within proper bounds, having regard to the crops, 
without utterly destroying them. 

We next proceeded to Cannes, but did not tarry there. 
Time for a drive along the " West End " was all that we 
could allow ourselves, as we were naturally anxious to 
get over the ground and settle down to our great work. 
There is an old saying attributed to Solomon or Shake- 
speare — I forget which — "All work and no play makes 
Jack a dull boy." This old saw may not be rime (never 
write rhynie^ like an ignorant pedant), but it is reason. 
Therefore, although we savants set out with the deliberate 
purpose of finding out whether (as the Wily Warrior put 
it) the human race is of any use ; and whether its 
history is or is not merely " the tale of an idiot, full of 
sound and fury, signifying nothing," nevertheless we 

29 



Down the Stream ot Civilization 



took none of the usual philosophical precautions against 
enjoying ourselves. 

We took our labours easily; we loafed about and 
enjoyed the weather. We had a peep at the Chateau 
Eleonore^ built by Lord Brougham, the father of Cannes — 




not of the little French fishing- village, but the fashionable 
suburb of London. I well remember the old man 
pottering about the garden, with his grand, rugged face, 
and his check trousers four inches too short for his legs. 
But I was a Httle boy then. Philosophers all begin hfe 
as Httle boys. Even Socrates was a hltle boy once, 
playing at marbles. "Now, Socks," his schoolfellows 
would cry, "no fuUocking." Shakespeare, too, was a 
boy in his youth. Nature had endowed him with rare 

3.0 



The Riviera 



abilities, and his parents had given him a good education, 
instead of which,^^ as Sir Thomas Lucy is said to have 
observed, "he went about stealing ducks." Says one of 
his biographers, " He was much given to all unluckiness, 
in stealing venison and rabbits, particularly from Sir 




PRO REGE LEGE GREGE ! 



Lucy, who had him oft whipt, and sometimes imprisoned, 
and at last made him fly his native county — to his great 
advancement. But his revenge was so great that he is 
his Justice Clodpate ; and calls him a great man, and 
that, in allusion to his name, bore three lowses rampant 
for his arms." This certainly was a great revenge, and 
must have made " Sir Lucy " wish that he had never 
been born. But, personally, I would rather be called 

31 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Justice Clodpate than whipped and clapped into gaol. 
It is all a question of temperament. I often wonder 
what Mr. Herbert Spencer was like when he was a boy. 
If his eye should chance to roam over these poor leaves, 
he would be doing a real brotherly act to forward a 
portrait of himself as he was — 

' ' When he played 
In his free field, and pastime made, 
A merry boy in sun and shade. 
A merry boy they called him then ; 
He sat upon the knees of men, 
In days that never come again." 

Even Society itself was a boy once. In its youth, 
when it lived at Rome, it could not reach much further 
than Pompeii, whereas now, like an old octopus, it 
stretches forth its tentacles from London as far as Monte 
Carlo ; whither we repaired. Being unable to retrace 
our steps in Time, we decided to move forward in 
Space. Shall we never be able to glide back up the 
stream of Time, and peep into the old home, and gaze 
on the old faces ? Perhaps when the phonograph and 
the kinesigraph are perfected, and some future worker has 
solved the problem of colour-photography, our descen- 
dants will be able to deceive themselves with something 
very like it : but it will be but a barren husk, a soulless 
phantasm and nothing more. " Oh, for the touch of a 
vanished hand, and the sound of a voice that is still ! " 

The Wily Warrior declares that Monte Carlo is the 
hub of the civihsed world. The Literary Failure says 
that it is the cesspool of the scum of civilisation. They 
are both rights and both wrong. i\nyhow, the place 
itself is picturesque and gay. There are no rates or 



The Riviera 

taxes to pay. Mark that, my poor, dear London rate- 
payer ! The Merry Monarch of Monaco pays ihem all 
out of his own pocket. And that pocket is plentifully 
replenished, " under the Providence of the Devil," as the 
sour old sage of Chelsea phrases it, by the Casino. And 




A CAFE IN IMONTE CARLO 



where does the Casino get it all from ? you ask. Now 
this is trifling. You are pushing your curiosity too far 
back. You remind me of that stupid missionary who 
wanted to know how the earth was kept from falling. 
" It is supported by the Great Elephant of course," re- 
plied the Indian. And what supports the Elephant ? " 
asked the missionary. "It stands upon the Great Tor- 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



toise/' answered the Indian^ with a pitying smile. " But 
on what does the tortoise stand ? "" persisted the mis- 
sionary. Then the Indian waxed wrath. What impious 
probing into the secrets of the Unknowable ! I once 
heard a diabolically inquisitive boy ask who made the 
stars and everything. God, my dear." replied his 
mother solemnly. And who made God?" blurted out 
the irrepressible urchhi. I felt quite uneasy. This was 
clearly a manifestation of Original Sin. Take warning 
by this, not to ask where the Casino gets the money. 

We did not frequent the Casino for the purpose of 
gambling — of course not. We merely wanted to study 
the life, for the sake of science. Besides, nobody goes 
there to gamble. Thev go to meet friends who happen 
to ht there. When you art there, hang it all \ you may 
as Well put a bit on. don't you know? Just to see what 
will happen. True, the Wily One plunged a little ; but 
that was doubtless for psychological reasons. He wanted 
to know at first hand what the gambler feels. If you 
ask one. he either will not or cannot describe his sensa- 
tions. ]\IoreOVer, what's the use of living." asked 
Orlando. 'Mf you never do anything?" Jus evaded 
the point. He made no effort to show that life under 
such conditions is of any use. Nevertheless, he would 
not gamble. It is wicked," he said. "What ineffable 
rot : shouted the AVarrior ; ''you talk like a lay-reader." 

Lay-reader or not," replied Jus with great dignity, "I 
never do anything wicked." Great Scott \ " thundered 
the Warrior, did any one ever hear such stuff? Don t 
}'0u play poker every day ? Don't you back yourself at 
chess and bihiards ? Is that wicked too ? '"Not at 
all/' answered Jus very calmly. quite the reverse. You 

34 



The Riviera 



see when I play billiards with you, the odds are five to 
four on me. Now, if Monsieur Blanc (commonly called 
The Tables) would bet me one hundred to ninety-six on 
the even chances, instead of ninety-six to one hundred, 
I should be as inveterate a gambler as you are." " What 
difference can a beggarly four per cent, make when you 
can plank your money on a thirty-five to one chance ? " 
^'Very little," Jus admitted: ''merely the difference 
between virtue and vice. I regard the Casino as one of 
the most virtuous of institutions, because the odds are in 
its favour. It is the idiots who play there whose wicked- 
ness I deplore." The Warrior, though disconcerted, was 
not going to give in. ''You are all theory," he ex- 
claimed; "you never take the world as you find it. 
People will gamble, and my advice is, don't lose your 
head ; stick to your system, whatever it is ; pouch your 
winnings, and walk out. That's a bit of all-right. But 
if you lose your head^ you haven't a dog's chance. As 
for all your averages and your algebra, it isn't worth a 
guinea a box." 

So the Warrior went off to the Casino and won a pot 
of money ; and the Literary Failure walked out in the 
beautiful moonlight, and had his pocket picked. For 
Virtue is its ow^n Reward ! 

Later on, the Warrior emerged with a face as radiant 
as the Towner Clock. "Well," he said, "I have relieved 
them of a few ponies." 

"Ah," said Jus, "you may have won this time, 
but 

"There is no 'maying' about it: I have won," the 
Warrior interposed. 

"Never mind," persisted Jus gloomily; "mark my 
35 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



words, next tirne you will lose. Depend upon it, you 
are subject to the same natural laws as your fellow men, 
and you will end like them.''^ 

Tliat reminds me," said the Com. : ''let us try if we 
can find the Suicides' Cemetery : it is an out-of-the-way 




VIRTl-E IS ITS OWN REWARD 



spot, but I succeeded in discovering it last time I was 
here ; and it is worth a visit."" 

It might be the means of saving Orlando ; let us 
go,"' said Jus. still harping on the Warrior's good luck 
with ill-concealed envy. 

We did, and, in spite of the efforts of the authorities to 
make the pkace as inaccessible and invisible as possible, 
we succeeded under the Com."s guidance in finding it. 



The Riviera 



A more depressing spot is unimaginable. An oblong 
enclosure surrounded by a rough stone wall, viithout 
tree or shrub or flower, without a single name to mark 
the last resting-place of the once " gay gamboleer " — 
nothing but a number on a plain stone slab : such is the 
Suicides' Cemetery. And, worse than all, there is a 
grisly tradition that, ever and anon, the authorities do a 
little amateur body-snatching, and carry off the bones of 
those who have lain there long enough, lest the warning 
blue lights should multiply and the devil be cheated 
of his prey. 

''There is a little unoccupied corner just there," said 
Jus grimly, pointing to a spot where a recent spade had 
been at work : ''I wonder w^hether I should be allowed, 
next time I come here, to place a wreath there, dedicated 
to ' A nameless friend who would not listen ' ? " 

The Warrior gave a slight shudder. " You should 
not talk like that," he said, more seriously than was his 
wont; "let us get out of this gloomy hole." 

But the ''gloomy hole " is balefully eloquent all the 
same, while you are there. Its spectral image quickly 
fades away, when later in the day you make your way 
from the grey moonlit sea to the Temple of Luck wi.'h 
its glittering lights, its green tables spotted with scarlet 
and gold, its palatial halls full of gaily dressed women and 
ghoulishly dressed men, and the feverish excitement 
depicted on many faces. 

We did not spend all our time in the Casino. After 
a very slight attack of "the tables," we pulled ourselves 
together and looked about us. We roamed about 
Mentone, and sampled the fresh green figs. There are 
few things in this world to touch fresh figs. I prefer 

37 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



them to Browning's poetry. We crossed the Ttahan 
frontier, and invaded ^Ir. Hanbury s beautiful garden. 

Crossing the frontier is no easy matter. You have to 
satisfy the Custom-house officers, not only that you 
have no dynamite, cigars, or other contraband concealed 




INIEXTOXE FROM ITALIAN SIDE 



m your carcche (the Frenchman's supreme effort to pro- 
nounce the Enghsh word carriage!), but also that your 
horses are not suffering from glanders, tuberculosis, 
staggers, or chicken-pox. As a rule the glitter of a five- 
franc piece is a conclusive proof of the negative on both 
counts. One day (some months later— but no matter) 
we gaUoped from ]^Ientonc to Ventimiglia in exactly one 

3S 



The Riviera 



hour and ten minutes, starting from the Cap Martin 
Hotel at 9.27 and reaching Ventimigila Station at 11.32. 




FLOWERING ALOES 



Those of my readers who are *'good at sums" may 
cavil at this statement, but it is accurate nevertheless. 

''What a nuisance it is," murmured the Wily One, 
" having to alter your watch every time you pass from 
one country to another ! Why can't the idiots all keep 
the same time ? " 

39 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



"Just because they are idiots," the Hon. Sec. replied 
for them, without consulting his clients. 

What time would you have them keep ? " queried 
the Com. 

" Greenwich time, of course," said the Warrior. 
" Why Greenwich ? " asked Jus. 

" Well, of course, every one knows that Greenwich 
time is the right time," urged Orlando with an air of 
superior wisdom. 

" Well," rejoined the Literary Failure meekly, " I 
should have thought North Polar time would have 
caused the least jealousy amongst the nations. Besides, 
you would never have to wind your watch up." 

The Warrior stared. " AVhat the deuce do you 
m.ean ? " he asked. 

" I mean that you could buy a watch without any works, 
and that would be cheap, you know. You would then 
set it at twelve, and it could not go wrong, don't you see?" 

" Oh, you talk too much with your mouthy you do," 
exclaimed Orlando, not to be had on ; " you have got a 
whole swarm of bees in your bonnet ; that's what's the 
matter withj'(9^/." 

And perhaps he was right when you come to think of 
it — if ever you do — and there is no particular reason 
why you should, when you come to think of it— if ever 
you do — and there is no particular re . . . 

Now, no man should try to write a book -especially a 
learned book like this — straight off the reel, without sleep. 
If he does n jt go to sleep, as the saying is, sleep will come 
to him. It is a case of Mahomed and the Mountain. 
And it so happens that, after penning the last paragraph, 
I fell asleep and dreamt I had invented perpetual motion. 

40 



The Riviera 



Then we went up to La Turbie by the new funicular 
railway. It is about two thousand feet above the sea, 
and is one of the quaintest villages in Europe. The 




A PEEP IX LA TURBIE 



very dialect of the inhabitants is archaic, and, in fact, the 
short journey is like making a trip from the nineteenth 
to the fourteenth century. Moreover, the climate is 
different. At the top it is bracing ; at the bottom it is 
relaxing — except when the mistral comes down, and then 

41 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



— but don't mention it ; the very thought of it makes the 
flesh creep and the bones ache. From La Turbie we 
drove along the Corniche Road to Nice. This is 
probably the lovehest drive in Europe ; and, if hard 
pressed, I wi'l chuck in Asia and Africa. I draw the 




FOUXTAIX IX LA TURBIE 



Hne at America, as I have no wish to damage the sale 
of this Treatise in the United States ; and I am, tliere- 
fore, prepared to admit that there is a drive somewhere 
in that country which can give the Corniche Road the 
odd^ of pawn and move. Nevertheless, Fitzsimons 
the C'^rnishman did floor Corbett the Californian : and 
there the matter rests at present. Moreover, Blackburne 
of London did checkmate Pillsbury of New York in their 

42 



The Riviera 



last chess encounter, and there I am content to leave it. 
And although Lord Dunraven— still I give way about 
the Corniche Road. 

Nice is superb. Not being a good hand at word- 
painting, I will not trust myself to describe this stateliest 



^^^^^^ «^ 




VIEW FROM CORNICHE ROAD 



of all watering-i)laces. I will take the liberty of copying 
from the notebook of our Minister of War his own im- 
pressions of the place. " Nice," he writes, " has got 
more tip-top houses in it than you can shake a stick at. 
The promenade in front all along the seashore is a 
regular scorcher. Llandudno isn't in it. I should say 
when you get to know the ropes, it wouldn't be half a 
bad corner to mouch about in when London is getting 

43 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

a bit too warm."' I have reason to believe that the last 
word has no reference to the state of the thermometer. 
But let that pass. Rightly understood, this eloquent 
passage is a noble tribute to the charms of the Queen of 
the Mediterranean. 




Si 



•'NOT HALF A BAD CORXEI^ " 

" I rather admire your style,''" said Jus to the AVarrior 
one day in the kindest manner. 

" That is more than I can say for yours,"' was the rude 
reply : I should think it was the stile that ]\Iary sat 
on.^' 

Who Mary was. or why she should sit on the style of the 
Literary Failure, I have not been able to ascertain ; but 
I suspect she may be one of those London critics who 
have done so much to impede the circulation of his 

44 



The Riviera 



works (and those of Marie Corelli) — one of those detest- 
able creatures made, as O. W. Hohiies says, out of the 
chips left over after the creation of authois. 

At last we succeeded in tearing ourselves, and espe- 
cially Orlando, away from that beautiful, fascinating, and 




.MONACO BAY 



yet dangerous anchorage, Monaco Bay ; and at eight 
o'clock in the evening headed S.S.E. direct for Ajaccio. 

I think Neptune was not very well that night : he was 
restless and tossed about a good deal, and, like most 
selfish gods and men who cannot get rest, he took jolly 
good care that nobody else should. The Com. was 
pacing the deck "upstairs " (I am a landsman and deter- 
mined to write pure Enghsh undefiled). He and Boreas 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



were having it out ; and I think the Com. had rather the 
best of it— at least he suffered nothing worse than a 
bruised knee and a bang on the side of the head. The 
Rich Banker was roaming about between the fore and 
aft saloons, and all round the engine-room, like a learner 
on a roller-skating rink, and roaring with glee every time 
he unexpectedly sat down, or skidded from one end of 
the saloon to the other. Jacko was chattering in a 
cubberd opposite the chart-room. Nor was he such an 
ape as to spell it " cupboard," as most human beings do, 
just as they spell lantern " lant-horn," and sovran " sove- 
reign : as if cups, boards, horns, and reigns had anything 
to do with these things. These are the people who turn 
Livorno into Leghorn, and call assafcetida asses' fat.'' 
They ask an Italian driver the name of an insignificant 
mountain lake, and come away with the notion that its 
proper name is Leg of Mutton. A plague on them ! 

The Literary Failure was playing divinely on the piano, 
and wondering why the infernal music-stool had not got 
its sea-leg. It had only one leg, you know, to attend to, 
and yet it could not keep that. 

As for the other fellows, the Warrior, the crockery, the 
Hon. Sec, the poached eggs, the broken glasses, and the 
'Varsity ^lan. they were all churned up together into a 
sort of omele tte in the middle of the floor. But in the 
midst of all this confusion, Clare's brain was not idle. 
He was hatching a great invention, of which we shall 
hear again when we reach Sardinian waters. It is in 
periods of social convulsion that geniuses are floated to 
the surface like cream. 

As Napoleon was the Child of the Revolution, so Clare 
was the Child of the aforesaid Omelette. 

46 



CHAPTER III 



NAPOLEON'S NURSERY 

"Get up, you lazy beast — Ajaccio is in sight, and the 
clock has just struck six," shouted the Hon. Sec. at 
Orlando's door. 

" Why don't they strike him back ? " groaned the 
Warrior, and turned over for another wink. 

Meantime Jus and ihe Com. swallowed some break- 
fast and jumped into the launch ; and from the quay 
made a bee-line for Nap's house. Neither the house 
nor its situation are particularly impressive, but its 
associations make up for everything. There is the little 
bed on which the King-maker was born. There is the 
nursery where he played at soldiers with his brothers 
and sisters, to the martial strains of a penny trumpet and 
a one-franc drum. Forty years later, other little children 
might have been seen playing at soldiers, a long way off, 
and Napoleon still taking part in the game. 

The nursery is just as it was when he left it ; even 
the tea things were laid out ready for tea. One could 
picture the beautiful Letizia, ?iee Ramolino^, the belle 
of Corsica, at the head of the table, pouring out the 
milk and dealing round the thick bread-and-butter. 
What were her day dreams ? Not unlike those of other 

47 



Down the Stream o: Civilization 

proud and happy mothers. I suppose. There sat the 
httle Emperor that was to be : there sat Joey, the future 
king of Spain : next to him was Louis, the future king 




XAPOLEOX'S HOUSE 



of HoUand. and then came little Terry, the king of 
A\'estphalia. And three little queens sat between, with 
sticky fingers and jammy pinafores. 

So the visitors pictured them, ns they were bidden to 
do by the good lad\- who showed them round. They 

43 



Napoleon's Nursery 

had forgotten all about the queens until she referred to 
them. 

" Three kings beat three queens, eh ? " inquired the 
Com. incorrigibly. 

" Without counting the Joker," replied Jus. 

I am ashamed to record this untimely jest, but since I 
have done so I may inform the non-poker-playing reader 
that the Joker is a card which can be anything it likes. 
And if ever such a card lived and breathed surely it was 
Napoleon Bonaparte. 

It seems a sin to spoil a pretty picture, but modern 
scepticism is inexorable. Alas ! little Jerome was not 
born till four years after his brother Nap had left the 
nursery for Brienne. 

Another nasty bit of scepticism has reference to the 
age of Napoleon himself. He used to say that he was 
born in 1769; and his baptismal register confirms the 
statement. Unfortunately this document doth protest 
too much. There be those who say they hiow that he 
was born in 1768. Now the submission of Corsica to 
France did not take place before June 1769. Hence, if 
Napoleon was to have been born a P>ench citizen, his 
birth ought to have been in August 1769, and not in 
August 1768. That was quite clear. But with all the 
power at his disposal, nothing could be easier than to 
tamper with, or fake, the register. And while he was 
about it, why not knock the " u " out of his name, so as to 
make it Bonaparte instead of Buonaparte, which has a 
decidedly Italian ring about it ? Old Charles, his father, 
never signed his name otherwise than Buonaparte, and 
why he should sign it Bonaparte on this solitary occasion 
calls for explanation. When Talleyrand unearthed the 

49 ^ 



I 
I 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

forgotten boyish prize-essay, written by Xapoleon at 
Valence, that Emperor, after glancing at it. pitched it 
into the fire. Would it, I wonder, have thrown any 
light on the spelling of his name or the date of his 
birth ? 

Talking of Italian, I was always of opinion that the 
Corsicans spoke Itahan, or at best a French dialect of it. 
I was surprised, therefore, when a Corsican assured me 
that it was neither one nor the other — but Corsican. I 
could not get any further information. Is it possible 
(I ask in all ignorance; that, like the ]\Ialtese tongue, it 
is based on a substratum of Phcenician, dating from the 
days before Hannibal, when it was a dependency of 
Carthage? If so, who knows but that through some 
collateral branch or other the blood of a Hannibal may 
not have found its way into the veins of a Napoleon? 
There is nothing improbable in this. I was speaking to 
a tradesman in Xewbury. the other day, whose name is 
Hannibal Hill. "'Droll name/'" I remarked, ^'for a 
christening : what led your parents to choose such a 
name?" Excuse me." said he. "I am a Cornishman, 
and the name has been handed down in my family ever 
since the Carthaginians discovered the Cassiterides and 
came to fetch away our Cornish tin." And, pray, why 
not ? The pedigrees of those peaceful families, which 
have remained rooted to the soil, are many of them 
longer, aye, and better, than those of the turbulent and 
restless barons and swash-bucklers whose incessant 
internecine struggles resulted in their own mutual 
extermination : while they swept as harmlessly over the 
heads of the busy traders and husbandmen as the billows 
on the surface of the sea roll above the tran(|uil de^pths 

50 



Napoleon's Nursery 

below. The extermination of a race is not so easy a 
matter as its permanent subjugation and even the sup- 
pression of its language. And I believe there is more 
British blood and more Roman blood in the composition 
of an Enghshman than is usually supposed. And I say 
this despite the high authority of Niebuhr, who says, 
" In no part of Europe has the ancient population been 
so utterly annihilated as in England by the Conquest of 
the Saxons." 

Not far from the house is Napoleon's Grotto, where he 
used to linger for hours, indulging, as we may well believe, 
in those visions of future greatness — those airy castles — 
which so many boys imagine but so few realise. In the 
Place du Diamant stands the monument of the great 
Corsican hero. He, himself, is on horseback, while his 
four brothers stand at each corner, all dressed in ancient 
Roman costume. Why Roman ? Does not the uniform 
of the Old Guard lend itself to artistic treatment as 
readily as that of Caesar's legions ? I am no sculptor, 
but " I know what I like," as the ladies say at the Royal 
Academy Exhibition. And I Hke truth — within reason. 
Charles James Fox, attired as Gracchus, may have 
charmed my grandfather, but it does not please me. I 
say, with the Princess Chimay, let me have a suitable 
dress or none. Then, on the other hand, there is a 
statue in Reading which goes to the opposite extreme of 
realism. The costume of this figure was possibly well 
adapted to the avocations of the wearer, but, ahem ! 
could not the carver — I beg pardon, the sculptor — have 
tried the effect of a little ideahsation ? 

But I am taking the wind out of the sails of our 
Minister of Art, the Hon. Sec, whose voluminous 

SI 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

report on all these and kindred matters is eagerly 
awaited by an expectant public. Let us pass on at 
once to the magnificent journey from Ajaccio to Vivario 
by the mountain railway. All lovers of colour and 
form in landscape would do well to undertake this 
expedition^ even at the cost of going ail the way from 
England for the sole purpose. Corsica is the centre 
where all the glories of the northern and southern 
flora meet, blend, and outvie each other. Fairyland 
was surely never quite so fair. 

As the train threads its slow way through leafy de- 
files, and over craggy precipices to a height of two 
thousand feet, the eye is gladdened by the rich autumnal 
tints of flame-hued chestnuts, dark green pines, and 
orange beeches ; by groves of grey olives, and patches 
of sunburnt bracken and emerald moss. Far below 
dashes the torrent from the hills of snow, and leagues 
away glitter the peaks of Monte d'Oro. Grandeur of 
outline and brilliance of colour, here and there mellowed 
by opalescent mists, and shading off into deep purple 
distance, together form a kaleidoscopic diorama such as 
would dazzle the eye and baffle the art of a Peter Graham, 
much more of this poor scribbler, who can but gaze in 
mute adoration upon Nature in her bridal dress. Well, 
we saw it and left it. Left it, do I say ? No, Keats is 
right. 

As we glided by some house where Paoli had once 
lodged or sought refuge from the French in the good old 
days when Corsica was Corsican, the Literary Failure, 
with that absence of tact which characterises him, re- 
marked to a nitive, ''Ah! in those days Corsica was 
free."' The man stared in amazement. It had never 

52 



Napoleon's Nursery 

entered his head that she was not free to-day. It is a 
noteworthy fact that every Corsican feels and beUeves 
that Corsica annexed France, not France Corsica. 
And so she did : just as Jersey and Guernsey annexed 
England in the eleventh century, and have held it ever 
since. May it be long before England shakes off the 
yoke ! But they lost the rich province of Normandy 
later on in a fair fight. May it be long before they 
recover it! As we re- embarked on the steam launch 
the Corsicans hissed us. We had come to worship at 
the shrine of their hero, and they returned the compli- 
ment by hooting us out of the island. We English are 
not beloved in Corsica. I wonder why ? 

Here, in proper order, should follow the chapter by 
our Minister of Sport, entitled " Round Sardinia on a 
Dinner Table." But I do not think I should be justified 
in inserting it before the publication of that gentleman's 
report. I must say I do not like the way in which 
these departmental reports hang fire. I like despatch. 
Look at the Reports of Our Royal Commissions. It is 
said that a very young member of one of those com- 
missions once lived to see the proof-sheets of the 
report on his ninety-fifth birthday. Then there is the 
report to which we are all looking forward, On the 
Present State of the Woad Trade," by the Royal Com- 
mission originally appointed to inquire into that burning 
question by Caractacus. Why can't our reports go 
ahead like that ? The fact is, our fellows do not con- 
fine themselves strictly to business. The Banker, for 
example, was staring about him all the way to Vivario, 
instead of making inquiries as to the price of coal and 
the quantity of fuel consumed by the engine, and count- 

53 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



ing the first and second class passengers. Indeed, to 
speak the plain truth, he knows a great deal more about 
botany than is compatible with sound finance. While 
the Bank of England was shoving up the bank rate to 
three per cent, he was actually gazing at a copse of 
myrtles and orange-trees, like a boiled owl of the wilder- 
ness. He was encroaching on the province of the Hon. 
Sec. and ought to have been cautioned. I beg to move 
a vote of censure on him iiozij. All those in favour of 
this motion will signify the same in the usual manner, 
by holding up one hand. Carried iieiii. con. Thank 
you 1 

I think it was ]\Ir. Herbert Spencer who once lost a 
game of billiards to a young stranger at the Athen^um 
Club. He did not like it. Some people say they do. 
I don't believe them. However, ^Mr. Spencer turned 
upon his assailant with these words: "Young man, a 
reasonable proficiency in sames of skill argues a liberal 
education ; but dexterity such as yours is conclusive 
evidence of a misspent youth/" So it is with our Banker- 
botanist. 

But to Sardinia. It will be remembered that when 
Neptune was fidgety, Clare was sad — very sad. In what 
appeared to be nothing but an omelette-chaos there 
was a constructive mind. Could nothing be done, he 
pondered, to counteract the senseless heavings and 
contortions of this inconsiderate Titan? At last his eye 
fell on a decanter full of yellow brandy, apparently 
skating about with complete equanimity. There is no 
need to carp at the word "equanimity," which means 
literally, having an equable spirit ; and that is just 
what the decanter had. The brandy hardly swayed 

54 



Napoleon's Nursery 



about at all. ''Now," reasoned the 'Varsity Man, "if I were 
to lie on that swinging dinner-table till Neptune re- 
covered from his colic, I should be even as that decanter." 
Some inventors invent, but never carry their inventions 
into practice. Alas ! yes. Not so the 'Varsity Man. 
No sooner thought than done. And that is how the 
world became possessed, or hopes soon to be possessed, 
of " The Observations of a Traveller on the Topography 
and Geology of Sardinia, from a Swinging Table in the 
Saloon of the Yacht Marian 

But, as I have said, I must not poach on my learned 
colleague's preserves. After passing through the Straits 
of Bonifacio, and putting in at Terra-Nova pendente 
tenipestate^ we enjoyed a delightful passage across the 
Mediterranean to Tunis. 



55 



CHAPTER IV 



"WHAT OF THE SHIPS, O CARTHAGE?" 

'Most of our party were glad when we sighted Cape Bon, 
and gUded into the Gulf of Tunis ; so called, although it 
is really only a Bay, to distinguish it from the Bey of 
Tunis, which is INIonarch of all he surveys — or fondly 
thinks so. In truth he occupies a somewhat similar posi- 
tion to that of the Khedive of Egypt. But although 
most of the party were glad to reach terra-firma for the 
first time since leaving Terra-Nova, the 'Varsity Man was 
not glad : for one reason because he was fast asleep in 
his little bunklet. Presently, on the starboard bow, the 
knowing ones pointed out Carthage — or rather the spot 
where Carthage once stood : for, alas I Tunis is built up 
of the stones of the old Phoenician city. Carthage, as 
any one with a smattering of Phoenician can see at a 
glance, means " the new city,"" Karth-hadtha, which the 
Greeks naturally pronounced Karchedon, and the 
Romans quite as naturally Carthago. And, therefore, 
I am disposed to agree with Niebuhr, that for several 
centuries before the supposed date of its building by 
Dido, there was an old city — a statement which would 
doubtless have greatly delighted the great ethnographer, 
if he had lived to see this day. This old city was pro- 

56 



" What of the Ships, O Carthage ? " 

bably a squalid fishing village nestling under the shadow 
of the Byrsa, or citadel. The facts that Bozrah is the 
Hebrew for a citadel, and Karth is the Hebrew for a 
city, furnished our first clue to the kinship of the ancient 
merchant-princes whose ships sailed all over the known 




VIEW FROM THE BEY'S PALACE 



world, from Britain on the north to the Cape of Good 
Hope on the south ; and from Gibraltar on the west to 
India on the east. Our second clue is the discovery 
that the Hebrew and Phoenician alphabets are one. Not 
that the Carthaginians were Jews— far from it. They 
were Canaanites, the Jews' bitterest enemies. Nor did 
they call their native land Phoenicia, which simply means 
" palm-land," and was the name given to it by the Greeks. 

57 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



St. Augastin asked them what they called themselves, 
and they answered promptly, " Canaanites, of course." 

Xow these Canaanites were a race akin to our good 
friends the Arabs. Like them they were a peaceable 
people, thirsting not for dominion nor gioi?'e, but civilized, 
rich, sensuous, and happy. We all remember what the 
live spies, men of valour,"' found when they came to 
sp\- out the land : how they saw the people of the land 
dwelling ''careless after the manner of the Sidonians, 
(juiet and secure." So they went back to their tribes- 
men of Dan and told them, saying, When ye go, ye 
shall come unto a people secure, and to a large land ; a 
place where there is no want of anything that is in the 
earth." So they got together six hundred men with 
their weapons of war, and they came up "'unto Laish, 
unto a people that were at quiet, and secure : and they 
smote them with the edge of the sword : and burnt the 
city with fire." These victims were of the people whose 
ships sailed unto Tarshish (Carthage) and founded 
colonies all along the Mediterranean coasts, who brought 
tin from Britain and gold from India, and embroidery 
from Babylon, who made glass and Tyrian purple, and 
who circumnavigated Africa, while the Hebrew free- 
booters of Palestine were raiding about in all directions, 
pillaging and stealing what they had neither the ability 
to make nor the industry to buy. 

The founding of Carthage (New Carthage) by Dido in 
the ninth century B.C. is interesting as being the very first 
point where Homeric legend, Bible story, and secular his- 
tory converge and meet. After the brilliant reign of King 
Hiram of Tyre. who. with his Phcenician artificers, built 
Solomon's Temple, a dynastv of Priest-kings was founded 

'58 



^^What of the Ships, O Carthage?" 

by Ethbaal. His daughter was Jezebel, the wife of 
Ahab ; and she is chiefly remembered as the painted 
lady who was flung out of the window; but from what 
one can make out, she seems to have been the good wife of 
a bad husband. Ethbaal's great-grand-daughter was Dido, 
whom we have seen making love to the Trojan ^neas. 
Her real name at home was El-issa, which explains 
Pope's rather funny line, 

" Eliza, stretched upon the funeral pyre." 

There is nothing very comical about the name Eliza, 
but one does not readily associate it with the Homeric 
heroes. The line forcibly reminds one of that martial 
couplet, 

" ' What are they feared on ? Fools ! Odd rot 'em ' ! 
Were the last words of Higginbottom." 

There was plenty of time to let off all this gas while 
the Afaria glided over the blue and white waves between 
Cape Bon and Goletta — the gullet, or harbour-entrance. 
A few years ago it was impossible for anything drawing 
more water than a barge to pass through the canal joining 
the sea with the Lake of Tunis— El Bahira, or the Little 
Sea, as it is called ; but now we had no difficulty in 
effecting the passage in the yacht, thanks to the noble 
engineering works accomplished by the French since 
their occupation. Having entered the Little Sea, the 
Maria swung round on her anchor and took up her 
allotted station alongside a French gunboat, and we 
all went ashore in the launch. This was no easy matter, 
for we found ourselves surrounded by a small fleet of 
rowing boats nlled with smiling Arabs anxious to make 
our acquaintance. Nor did our landing rid us of our 

59 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



new friends. They escorted us everywhere— all through 
the new, ugly, and Christian suburb; all through the 
handsome modern French quarter with its air of Parisian 
smartness ; and all through the quaint old Arab city, 
with its mosques and bazaars. Several of these fellows 




FRENCH GUXBOAT IX EL BAHIRA 



were handsome and very showily dressed. But all were 
eclipsed by an impudent youth of about fourteen, in 
bright yellow slippers, who ruthlessly exposed the sordid 
motives of his companions, and appointed himself our 
"guide, philosopher, and friend." How mortally sick I 
am of that trio — guide, philosopher, and friend ; but the 
public unll have it. It is as bad as Castor and Pollux. 
Who ever heard of Pollux ? Or of Castor ? They must 

60 



" What of the Ships, O Carthage ? " 

detest one another as much as Moody and Sankey, or 
Marshall and Snelgrove, or Tate and Brady. Wherever 
we went, our guide, philosopher, and friend, supple- 
jointed, skipped round us, laughing, chatting, and occa- 
sionally exchanging blows with his rivals. It is surprising 
what a fund of information, true or false, he contrived to 
impart, considering the small command of French at his 
disposal. Most of the Tunisian Arabs speak a little 
French, but not quite so well as the Arabs of the Nile 
speak English. Arabs are quick linguists — perhaps the 
readiest in the world, hard pressed by Poles and Russians : 
English and French bring up the rear, being probably the 
worst except Chinese. 

Strangers are absolutely prohibited from entering and 
so defiling the mosques — and rightly so. Not even the 
slipper compromise, tolerated in Cairo and Jerusalem, is 
permitted in Tunis. From what I have myself seen and 
heard in Mahommedan mosques where foreigners are 
allowed to go inside I am not surprised nor offended at 
the punctiliousness of the Tunisians. Englishmen, in 
particular, raise their voices, titter, and point derisively 
at objects regarded by their hosts with deep veneration, 
and behave altogether in a way they would themselves 
be the first to resent if the tables were turned — if, for 
example, the scene were Westminster Abbey, and the 
amused visitors were advanced Japanese, with a simulated 
sense of the ridiculous. Besides, we must not forget 
that the Arabs, though far from fanatical, are honestly 
religious. With them a reverential demeanour is not a 
question of " good form," as it is with the professors of 
the faded and skin-deep creeds of Western Europe : it is 
a question c^ood taste. I cannot do better than quote 

6i 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



the Com.'s words on this point. Says he: "Besides 
attending mosque, the Mahommedan has his other hours 
of prayer : and in the midst of his work, in liis shop, in 
the street, anywhere, before any number of people, you 
will see him suddenly falling on his knees, swaying up 
and down, looking towards ]^Iecca, and praying. He 
does not think it necessary to isolate himself, as the act 
of prayer is so reverenced that he is quite free from any 
risk of disturbance." But to atone for his exclusion from 
the mosque, a double welcome is accorded to the stranger 
in the bazaars, and notably those of the perfumer?, of 
the vendors of embroidery and textile fabrics, and of the 
gold- and silver-smiths. The occupants of these tastily- 
stocked dens sit cross-legged and impassive as you pass 
by : but not a look of covetousness, not a sign of 
appreciation escapes their vigilance. It is said that they 
know who will return, what he will buy. and how much 
he will pay for it, before he knows it himself. Should 
one of us halt, as though contemplating a purchase, our 
guide, philosopher, and friend (have I said this before?) 
was at his elbow. '* /V/;;/, noji : tres mauvais homme^'^ 
he exclaimed, trniiear " and then in English (the 
only English he knew), ''Xo good, no good." 

The whole surroundings — buildings, streets, dresses, 
and faces — recall the pictures of Bagdad in the Arabian 
Nights," and probably neither in Egypt nor elsewhere 
can Arab life and setting be found less Europeanised 
than in Old Tunis. 

Whether the motives of our \-ellow-slippered gui — 
companion were purely aUruistic, or whether we never 
reached the particuLar bazaar presided over by the honest 
and good merchant (for whom, as some suspicious people 

62 



" What of the Ships, O Carthage ? " 

say, he acted as decoy), is still a mystery. The fact 
remains that he mightily amused and entertained us, 
and we are grateful. 




HONEST MERCHANT 



Next day we made a pilgrimage to Carthage, under 
the guidance of a resident Phoenician, or Maltese as 
he called himself, named Cimiotte— afterwards named 
Steam- Yacht, to his complete satisfaction. Ignoring the 
modern railway as a product of civilisation quite out of 

63 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

harmony ^Yith cur expedition and its hallowed memories^ 
we took the launch as far as Goletta, where a couple of 
carriages were to be in readiness. For a minute or so 
nothing was visible, when suddenly a couple of Jehus 
at a break-neck gallop dashed round a corner like 
infuriated Roman charioteers, to the imminent peril of 
all and sundry. It seems to be an established article of 
Arab faith that Enghshmen love headlong horsemanship 
(perhaps they do) ; but the Com., who narrowly escaped 
the honours of martyrdom in the cause, took a sombre 
view of the situation j and had it not been for the inter- 
cession of the Literary Failure (who is a merciful man), 
we should all have been put on trial for homicide — 
perhaps murder. In the latter event we might have 
been mulcted to the tune of twenty pounds. "Twenty 
pounds ! " exclaims the reader ; " why, you would have 
been hanged." Not at all. We attended a murder trial 
in the High Court of Tunis ; so we may be supposed to 
know all about it, especially as the proceedings were 
conducted in plain Arabic, and not in a medley of 
Norman French, archaic English, and dog Latin^ as 
in England. It appears that when the prisoner is con- 
victed, he offers a sum of money to the murdered man's 
next-of-kin. If this is accepted, there is an end of the 
matter. But if the murderer is short of cash, and unable 
to raise the needful among his friends, the Bey of Tunis 
intervenes with an offer of twenty pounds, for he hates 
shedding blood. This sum usually suffices to salve the 
w^ounded feelings of the bereaved, and the prisoner is 
discharged. Occasionally, but rarely, the next-of-kin 
declines all compensation ; in which case, as the Warrior 
explained, "the villain has his knob oft/' And the Bey 

64 



" What of the Ships, O Carthage ? " 

sheds a silent tear. To be quite accurate, I ought to 
add that blood-money is allowed only in cases of hot 
blood, and not in cases of cold, premeditated murder. 

The difficulty of getting at the truth in Arabian 
Courts of Justice is well illustrated by an anecdote 
which appeared in the Mornmg Post last May : 

"An Arab was travelling through the interior with his 
wife : he was on donkeyback, and she was afoot. By 
came a rich Arab on horseback, and offered her a lift 
behind him. She accepted, and presently, in the course 
of the journey, confided that she was unhappily married. 
Her companion proposed a plan by which she might 
elope with him, and she agreed to it readily. Accord- 
ingly, when they came to a branch road they increased 
their pace, and paid no heed to the protestations of the 
husband, who was soon left behind. He succeeded in 
tracking them to the horseman's village, only to find 
that precautions had been taken against his arrival, for 
everybody asserted that they had known the runaway 
pair for many years as man and wife, and that the 
real husband must be an impudent impostor. The 
unfortunate man had recourse to the French, who were 
at first puzzled how to act in the face of the village's 
unanimous testimony. At last a happy thought occurred 
to the judge. He placed the real husband's dogs in one 
room, those of the other man in another, and confronted 
the woman with both. Arab dogs are very faithful to 
their own households and very fierce towards all strangers; 
so, though she did her utmost to irritate her own dogs, 
they could not be restrained from fawning on her, and 
though she lavished every blandishment towards the 
dogs of her new home, they barked and showed their 

65 E 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



teeth with ever increasing fury. The judge thereupon 
ordered her to be given back to her husband, and he 
placarded the village with the following notice : ' The 
testimony of one dog is here more to be believed than 
that of ten Arabs.' As a dog is one of the Arabs' worst 




CACTUS 



terms of opprobrium, this notice was deemed a worse 
punishment than fines or imprisonment. I commend 
this idyll to any novehst who may be in search of a 
plot." 

The road from Goletta to Carthage is hedged by rows 
of cactus from three to ten feet high. Nothing could 
well bd imagined better calculated to damp the ardour 
of trespassers than these dagger-pointed, grey-green, cast- 

66 



" What of the Ships, O Carthage ? " 

iron vegetables. Arrived at our goal, the barren scene 
which met our gaze was surely one to strike Dido dumb 
— if she revisits still the ghmpses of the moon. Save 
the foundations of a few walls, and some holes supposed 
to have been tombs, not a vestige of the grand old 




CATHEDRAL OX THE RUINS OF CARTHAGE 



Phoenician city, with its million inhabitants, remains. 
On an eminence, overshadowing all, stands the brand- 
new cathedral, hke a huge vampire exulting over the 
scene of desolation wrought in the name of Christianity 
— the utter annihilation of a city and a nation. It 
remains on record that during the second and third 
centuries of our era, the finest buildings in Carthage 
were wantonly destroyed by the Christians, with the 

67 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



avowed object of obliterating every trace of paganism — 
in other words, of civilization. 

The mind of the traveller is irresistibly urged to the 
contrast between the generous Hannibal — his humane 
efforts to bring about the exchange of prisoners of war, 
together with his tender and reverent treatment of the 
bodies of his enemies, Flaminius and Marcellus (admitted 
by the Roman Livy himself) — and the fanatical Cyprian, 
the runaway bishop of Carthage — his fiendish intolerance 
of the '^'lapsed,'' and his inane vapourings about the 
washing of feet. One would fain believe that the 
degraded bishop and his degraded flock lived at least 
five centuries before the noble general, instead of five 
centuries later, as the fact is. Tertullian, in his De fuga 
persecutiojie^ maintained that flight is a form of apos- 
tasy ; but the slippery Cyprian appealed to his dreams to 
justify his conduct ; and declared that his flight was 
" by command of God \ thereby proving that he was 
not only a coward, but also a liar. 

This second destruction of Carthage, Rome's resplen- 
dent rival, is one of the most remarkable instances in 
history of the Nemesis which seems to pursue and 
avenge the crimes of nations as well as of individuals. 
It was in the terrible year 146 B.C. that the Roman 
Senate pronounced the curse of Scipio, as it is errone- 
ously and unjustly styled, for Scipio himself, though 
he executed the decree, was foremost in opposing it. 
Delenda est Carthago I So it is decreed by the Roman 
Senate. The entire city, together with the rich and 
beautiful suburb of .Megara, shall be levelled to the 
ground ; the ploughshare shall be driven over her soil : 
and he who dares to cultivate it or build upon it shall 

68 



" What of the Ships, O Carthage ? " 

be accursed. For over a hundred years this grisly vow 
was kept. And then from the ashes of the old town 
sprang up a Roman Carthage to vie in splendour with 
Rome herself. Long afterwards, but inexorably, came 
the Nemesis, in the form of that strange intellectual 
blight known as Early Christianity. And Roman Car- 
thage in its turn utterly perished. And there it lay 
stretched before us like the skeleton of a prehistoric 
giant, or like some deserted wild-bird's nest wrecked by 
wind and storm. 

Not far from where we stood cowered a wretched den 
of no particular style of architecture, called the Chapel 
of St. Louis, over the entrance to which is inscribed in 
French : 

Louis Philippe I , King of the French, built this 
monument in the year 1841, on the spot where expired 
St. Louis his ancestor." 

That Louis IX. expired somewhtre is incontrovertible; 
that he died not a day too soon may be safely affirmed ; 
that the plague carried off one of the most truculent 
bigots of a bigoted age in the neighbourhood of Tunis 
is probable ; but that this important event (certainly the 
most commendable act of his life) took place on the site 
of the Byrsa is at best open to doubt. Louis is the 
worthy whose Christian charity and logic are both 
summed up in his own declaration that ^' a layman 
ought not to dispute with infidels, but strike them with 
a good sword across the body." For this sentiment he 
consistently was canonised by Pope Boniface VIIL And 
there stands his monument to this day. The Arabs, 
who gave him a well deserved hiding, and who may be 
supposed to know as much about his end as Louis 

69 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

Philippe, say that he lies buried in a little village two 
miles off, after becoming a convert to Islam under the 
name of Sidi-boo-said. 




TO SAIXT LOUIS 



However, whether St. Louis died or St. Cyprian was 
born here or not is of less interest than the fact that a 
better man than either was interred in the English 
cemetery hard by in 1852. By a strange irony of fate, 
John Howard Payne, author of the words of the most 

70 



" What of the Ships, O Carthage ? " 

popular song in the English language — " Home ! Sweet 
Home ! " died on African soil, a self-condemned exile 
from his beloved American home. For he was twice 
American Consul at Tunis. A generation later his 
fellow countrymen bore away the body, leaving a monu- 
ment to mark the spot. Why cannot we content our- 
selves with erecting memorials of those who have done 
nothing ? They need them. Payne's epitaph is engraved 
on eighty million hearts. And millions more are forth- 
coming. Three years later, poor Henry Bishop, the 
composer of the air, sank into his grave in his native 
England — at Home — but amid surroundings which 
might have warranted him in exclaiming with the Cynic, 
" There's no place like Home — thank God !" " Look 
here," said Cassius to the member of the party who had 
given vent to these melancholy reflections ; " look here : 
we are abroad at present for the purpose of enjoying 
ourselves ; and if your breakfast has disagreed with you, 
you had better go home." 

So we drove off to the old amphitheatre, which is still 
in course of excavation. It is an elliptical hollow some 
thirty or forty feet deep, and has already yielded some 
valuable finds, with a fair prospect of more to come. 
Most of the antiquarian treasures discovered at Carthage 
have unfortunately found their way to Paris ; but there 
is an excellent museum on the spot, and the collection is 
proceeding apace. 

Here I must pause for reflection. I have a terrible 
confession to make, and I do not know how to do it. 
Murder will out ; and as a slave to truth I am impelled, 
against my will, and against my obvious interest, to make 
a clean breast of it. In short, I mean to tell the truth 

71 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

about our visit to the museum. Reader have mercy ! 
have pity I we- never e/itered if ! Let me explain. You 
see I plead guilty, but with extenuating circumstances 




Ml'SEI'M GARDEN 



The museum does not open till half-past two. Now we 
all know that in one respect a hot lunch resembles 
Time and Tide. Our lunch was ordered for half-past 
one. In vain the Com.'s frantic efforts to get the doors 
opened an hour earlier : in vain all offers of bribes ; in 

72 



"^What of the Ships, O Carthage ? " 

vain all threats of violence. It could not be. The 
monks in charge take a siesta in the heat of the day. 
Therefore, three courses were open to us. (i) We might 
forego the inspection altogether. (2) We might take 
the museum on our way back from Jerusalem, or the 




ox THE HORNS OF A TRILEMMA 



North Pole, or wherever we might be going. (3) We 
might let our lunch get cold. What a trilemma for 
EngHsh savants ! The first course was painful. The 
second was too serious an undertaking. And the third 
was— well, out of the question. And so it came to pass 
that — but I need not repeat it. There ! I have donned 
the white sheet and humiliated myself. It remains only 
to clear the 'Varsity Man and the Literary Failure. 

73 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

They really made a very decent show of protest, but 
were overraled. Even the most enthusiastic antiquarians 
are sometimes baffled by circumstances. Somebody told 
us (was it Murray ?) that the Amphitheatre was the scene 
of the Martyrdom of St. Perpetua and her companions 
on March 7, a.d. 203. Who she was or what she had 
been up to the present writer cannot tell, because he 
does not know; but Roman Governors were not in the 
habit of puuing quiet, decent people to death without 
good cause ; and when we remember that the city was 
about that time visited by a loathsome plague, and that 
the new sect lived in a most filthy and pestilent condi- 
tion, we may perhaps hazard a guess. '* Ah 1 " sighed 
the "Varsity Man with emotion, "what heroism 1 how I 
should like to have been there 1 " So should I," mut- 
tered the Hon Sec. under his breath. But there was a 
look in his eye, and a curl on his lip, which rather dis- 
tressed me. He does not often gush. 

The air at Carthage even in November is hot, breezy, 
and bracing. Under the wholesome and genial, albeit 
somewhat ofhcious, rule of the French, there is room for 
hope that in a not remote future a new Carthage may 
yet arise, which shall be no mean successor to the 
beautiful daughter of Tyre. It is marvellous, as has 
frequently been pointed out, that this unique site should 
be allowed to he unoccupied ; and so fine a field to lie 
fallow. What a strange story is engraved on this dreary 
stretch of stones ! Eight and twenty centuries have 
rolled over it since .Elneas and his weary mariners 
caught sight of its welcome shelter ; and twenty cen- 
turies since ^hrgil penned the lines describing their 
landing : 

74 



" What of the Ships, O Carthage ? " 

Within a long recess there Hes a bay ; 
An island shades it from the rolling sea, 
And forms a port secure for ships to ride : 
Broke by the jutting land on either side, 
In double streams the briny waters glide 
Betwixt the rows of rocks : a sylvan scene 
Appears above, and groves for ever green. 
No halsers need to bind the vessels here, 
Nor bearded anchors ; for no storms they fear. 
Seven ships within this happy harbour meet 
The thin remainders of the scatter'd fleet. 
The Trojans, worn with toils and spent with woes 
Leap on the welcome land and seek their wish'd 
repose." 

Virgil although a Frenchman (for he was born in Gaul), 
was pedantic enough to write his ^]neid in the form of 
Latin hexameters, for which he has incurred the execra- 
tion of generations of schoolboys, and it was reserved 
for John Dryden to rescue the work from deserved 
oblivion by turning it into proper English ; it is from 
his translation that the above is taken. I am indebted 
to Clare for this note. 

Visitors to Carthage hear a good deal about ^sculapius 
and Hercules and other Greek and Roman deities. But 
in truth the Phoenicians of the days of Hannibal and 
Hasdrubal knew nothing of these gods, beyond the fact 
of their worship by barbarians ; just as we English have 
heard of Juggernaut and Jumbo. They had centuries 
before grown out of such childish beliefs. They 
worshipped one god, Baal-Ammon, or the Lord of 
Heaven, the Amen-Ra of the civilized Egyptians. 
Like the Egyptians, too, they worshipped him, the Sun, 
the Giver of all Life, in several of his manifestations ; at 

75 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



his rising, at noon, and at his going down : and under his 
different names. He was ]\Ioloch or ]\Ielek, the King. 
He was Asmon, the Healer. Their poets gave him the 
Moon to wife, as ours do to-day, without fear of being 
charged with polytheism or anthropomorphism. She 
was caUed Ashtaroth, the Queen of Heaven, with 
crescent horns When the Carthaginians spoke of God 
as the Healer, the Romans naturally confounded him 
with their own .^^sculapius, and mistook him for a 
separate deity. Similarly, as Melcarth or Moloch, the 
King, the Strong One, he was confounded with Hercules; 
and the sites of the temples of these deities are pointed 
out to us to-day. 

It is grossly unfair to accept the garbled accounts of 
t'leir mal gnant Roman conquerors, or of Philo the 
forger, and his copyist Eusebius, as authentic descrip- 
tions of the creed of such highly civilized people as the 
Phcenicians. Doubtless, when the creed of a cultured 
people becomes engrafted on savages, the creed itself 
undergoes a corresponding degradation. Appalling 
accounts of the way in which Christianity is practised 
among certain cannibal tribes at this day have from time 
to time come to us through the missionaries. And it is 
therefore not surprising to find the following gruesome 
description of the ancient worship of Moloch at Jeru- 
salem. Says the Rabbi Simeon. "All the houses of the 
idols were in the city of Jerusalem, except that of 
]^[oloch, which was out of the city, in a separate place. 
It was a statue with the head of an ox, and the hands 
stretched out as a man's, who opens his hands to receive 
something. It was hollow within. The child was 
placed before the idol, and a fire made under it till it 

76 



" What of the Ships, O Carthage ? " 

became red-hot. Then the priest took the child and 
put him into the glowing hands of Moloch. Lest the 
parents should hear his cries they beat drums to drown 
the noise." 

Another of the names of Ashtaroth, or Astarte, the 
Moon-goddess, was Tanath; whence the name Tunis 
From being the Queen of the Sun, the Giver of Life, she 
naturally came to be regarded as the symbol of the 
feminine principle ; and was consequently worshipped 
by the lower races adopting the Punic creed, much as 
Venus was celebrated by the Romans and Aphrodite by 
the Greeks, liow would Christians like iheir creed to 
be interpreted by the light of their mummers, their hot- 
cross-buns, their Easter eggs, their Shrovetide pancakes, 
and their Christmas trees ? 

After the utter destruction of Carthage by Scipio, not 
only were the people massacred and the city burnt to 
ashes, but it was ordained that their very name and 
literature should be completely obliterated and expunged, 
in order that Roman liars and distorters of history might 
paint their fallen foes in the blackest colours, without 
tear of contradiction. All the Punic books were publicly 
burnt, with the exception of Mago's treatise on agricul- 
ture, of which the Romans had need : for the Cartha- 
ginians knew much more about such matters than their 
savage conquerors. Having thus paved the way, and 
made a tabula rasa for their detestable calumny, they set 
to work and wrote upon it. And this is how they began 
with the character of the indomitable hero who held out 
against them until he was almost single-handed : 

On the seventh day Scipio had taken up his post on a 
lofty place which commanded the whole view, when a 

77 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



deputation appeared before him, to beg the Hves of those 
who had taken refuge in the Byrsa. The request was 
granted for all except the Roman deserters ; and, of that 
teeming population of 700,000 persons whose prosperity 
had excited the jealousy of Cato, a miserable remnant, 
30,000 men and 25,000 women, marched out through 
the burning ruins of their houses over the heaped-up 
corpses of their fellow citizens. There remained the 900 
Roman deserters, with Hasdrubal, his wife, and his two 
sons. They retreated to the temple of Asmon, the heart 
of the citadel." * 

So far we have history. Here we see the brave 
Hasdrubal, like the captain of a sinking ship, standing at 
the post of duty till every other Carthaginian had safely 
retired. His devoted wife and two boys only remain 
with him to share his fate. Now listen to the malignant 
bit of Roman spite : — "No sooner was the temple set on 
fire than Hasdrubal rushed forth, deserting wife, children 
and followers, and came into Scipio's presence with an 
olive-branch in his hand. In utter scorn the victor 
granted life to the abject wretch, but compelled him to 
prostrate himself at his feet in sight of the deserted 
garrison, who overwhelmed him with execrations. Above 
them all the wife of Hasdrubal showed herself on the 
topmost story of the temple, holding a child in either 
hand. ' To thee, Roman,' she exclaimed, ' I wish nothing 
but prosperity ; for thy acts are according to the laws of 
war : but I beseech thee, as well as the gods of Carthage^ 
to punish that Hasdrubal as he deserves, for having 
betrayed his country, his gods, his wife and children.' 



' History of the World," by P. Smith. 
78 



"What of the Ships, O Carthage?" 

Then, having reviled her husband, she cut her children's 
throats and threw them one after the other into the flames, 
into which she then leaped down herself." 

The object of the manufacture of this cock-and-bull 
story is obvious. Some excuse must be found for violating 
the laws of war and for torturing Hasdrubal. Picture 
the stentorian woman, with a heavy boy in each hand, 
yelling amid the clash of arms and the roaring and crack- 
ling of the conflagration from the summit of a high tower, 
■ — yelling in Punic to a Roman who knew only his own 
mother-tongue. Picture the hero^ hitherto deaf to offers 
of bribery and to threats of torture, so unbending in the 
hour of defeat, so disdainful of the opportunity of retreat 
just held out to all but Roman deserters, electing rather 
to perish with foreign mercenaries than to desert them in 
the moment of extremity — picture this man, against whose 
record of deed and daring not a single act of pusillanimity 
could be set, suddenly transformed into a whining cur, 
deserting the followers with whom he had just sworn to 
perish and the noble woman who had chosen to die with 
him ! 

And yet this is what youth is taught in our public 
schools. It is a libel not only on the name of a great 
man, but on Humanity itself. And I mention the in- 
famous fabrication merely as a warning to all students of 
Carthaginian history not to attach the slightest credence 
to anything which comes to them through Roman 
channels. The history of Carthage is yet to be written, 
perhaps by some scion of the great race whose civilization 
has smouldered for four hundred years, well-nigh stifled 
by that deadening blight, the rule of the Turk. 



79 



CHAPTER V 



THE KNIGHTS OF MALTA 

The voyage from Carthage to ^lalta was an agreeable 
change to those who love a blue sky, a blue sea, and 
a contemplative pipe on deck in a basking sun. It 
was not ''such manly weather,"" to adopt the "Varsity 
Man's expressive phrase, as that which we had ex- 
perienced on the Sardinian coast ; but it afforded the 
party an opportunity of making headway with the 
chess handicap which had been organised by the 
Hon. Sec. Before Malta was sighted, Jus had suc- 
ceeded in vanquishing all his opponents except the 
Hon. Sec, whose game was still unfinished. This 
undue haste had only the effect of convincing every 
competitor except himself that, after all, chess is not a 
very athletic sport, and that deck quoits is vastly its 
superior in that respect. AMiereupon it was resolved 
by a thumping majority of live to one that the handicap 
should be allowed to lapse. The minority, strange to 
relate, consisted of the Literary Failure. And that is 
what came of losing the Legal Luminary, whose acquired 
sense of justice would surely have revolted against such 
perhdy. However. Jus vow ed he would have his revenge 
by communicating the facts to the present writer, and 

So 



The Knights of Malta 



through him to the great British PubUc, to whom he 
looks for, not redress, but sympathy. " Never mind 
the stakes," he writes, his pen quivering with emotion : 
''give me but a sympathetic sigh, and a silent hand-grip, 
as they do it on the Adelphi stage, and I ask no more." 
Knowing the B. P. as I do, I feel confident that this 
appeal will not be made in vain. 

When a man has been unjustly convicted of a heinous 
crime in free England ; when, owing to mistaken identity 
or the wilful false witness of foresworn knaves, l%e has 
been sentenced to five years' penal servitude for what he 
has never done or dreamt of ; when he has served three 
of those years, and is found to be innocent — what is the 
behaviour of his sorrowing and remorseful compatriots ? 
Do they, like the sordid and earthly Chinaman, cry: 
" We have wronged this man ; we have ruined his 
business ; injured his health ; curtailed his liberty ; 
besmirched his reputation, and cursed his kindred ; come, 
let us make reparation; let us make a public apology; 
let us grant him a life annuity; let us make his future 
the happier as we have made his past the more wretched." 
No : a thousand times no. At such a moment Enghsh- 
men rise superior to all such mundane considerations. 
Say they: "Let us grant him her Majesty's most 
gracious pardon ; let us set the prison-door ajar, and 
silently and gently push him out into the street. ' Let 
the dead past bury its dead : Act, act in the living 
present, heart within and God o'erhead.' " Ycs, a very 
long way o'erhead, thinks the the victim of insolent 
injustice. 

Should the eye of the gentle lady who sits upon the 
throne of England chance to fall on the words I have 

8i F 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



written, she would not deem it unbecoming in me to 
suggest that she has it in her power by a single word to 
put an end to this cruel mockery once and for ever. 
" May it please your Majesty to sign the pardon of this 
innocent man ? " Xo. ' 

" But that,"' objects the carping democrat, " would be 
unconstitutional.'"' Then to shreds with a Constitution 
which upholds iniquity ! Not Caesar with his Roman 
legions, not Xerxes with his million slaves, were more 
resistless than Victoria's " I will," thus justice-winged to 
the uttermost parts of the British Empire. 

We steamed along the cliffs of Malta and entered the 
port of Valetta at sunrise. The chmate of Malta agrees 
with the sun. He rose rejoicing as a strong man to run 
a race. And nothing was hid from the brightness 
thereof. ]\Ialta is simply the summit of a mountain 
peeping out of the sea. And as she lay there, bathed in 
amber light, she looked like a sleeping amazon in golden 
armour. 

Deserting the yacht (after breakfast) we cruised round, 
in and out of the two great harbours on each side of 
Valetta, and over several others between the fortress of 
St. Elmo and St. Paul's Bay — so called because it is 
believed to be the creek where Paul landed after being 
tossed about for fourteen days on his way from Crete to 
Rome. It is said that he found the people of ]Melita 
very hospitable. Probably they were of Phoenician 
nationality, but under Roman rule. The names of most 
places on the island have an Arabic or Phoenician ring 
about them. A'aletta presents an appearance of impreg- 
nability : so the civilian members of the party agreed ; 
but the Wily Warrior said he would undertake to reduce 

.82 



The Knights of Malta 

it in a week — with the assistance of Nelson and Napoleon 
and the present British fleet. 

The country beyond Valetta appears from the sea to 
be nothing but a macadamised moor; but really it is 
fertile and fruitful, producing in abundance not only the 




ARSENAL yi'AY MALTA 



figs and pomegranates of the south, but also the apples 
and strawberries of the north. Its stony appearance is 
due to the walls, which everywhere surround the gardens 
and fields to protect them from the fury of the winds, 
and especially from Euroclydon, which drove the unwill- 
ing evangeHst to these shores. We may be permitted 
to smile reverently at Paul's opinion of the weather before 
starting. Indeed, the whole description of the. voyage is 
one of the most realistic touches in the New Testament. 

83 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

^' Sirs," said he, looking apprehensively at the waves, I 
perceive that this voyage will be with hurt and much 
damage, not only of- the lading and the ship, but also of 
our lives." How often have we heard this advice 
proffered - to the captain by a cautious passenger, and 
received in like manner ! " Nevertheless the centurion 
believed the master and the owner of the ship more than 
those things that were spoken by Paul." Alas ! so it is ! 
And then after the baleful fulfilment of his prognostica- 
tions, could anything be more human than the following ? 
''^ After lo7ig abstinence^ Paul stood forth in the midst of 
them, and said, Sirs, ye should have hearkened unto me, 
and not have loosed from Crete." It is these touches of 
nature which make the New Testament so captivating. 
Which of us w^ould not have taken this natural and legiti- 
mate little revenge — " I told you so " ? The narrative is 
one for all time. 

Malta has from time immemorial been rightly regarded 
as one of the strongest posts in the Mediterranean When 
first heard of, it was in the occupation of the Phoenicians. 
Some 700 years B.C. it fell under the sway of the Greeks. 
In the fifth century the Carthaginians came and put the 
Greeks in their proper place. Two hundred and fifty 
years later it was captured by the Romans. In 870 a.d. 
it was conquered by the Arabs, under whose benign rule 
it prospered exceedingly. Tolerant almost to a fault, the 
Khalifs permitted those disguised freebooters and swash- 
bucklers, the Knights of St. John, to obtain a footing 
here ; and they, like the mythical cuckoo invented by 
the charlatan Jenner, gradually elbowed the rightful pos- 
sessors out of the nest. The island was formally presented 
to the Knights by Charles V. in 1530. The deed of gift 

84 



The Knights of Malta 

is dated March 24, a day which the present writer, for 
private reasons, regards as the most important day in the 
year. In 1798 Malta was seized by Napoleon Bonaparte, 
but two years later the l^^ench were starved out with the 
aid of the British fleet; and in 1814 the treaty of Paris 




SHE MEAXS TO KEEP IT 



vvas signed, according to Article VII. of which "The 
island of Malta with its dependencies will a} pertain in 
full authority and sovereignty to his Britannic Majesty" : 
in simpler language, " The English have got Malta, and 
mean to keep it." Napoleon's soldiery behaved them- 
selves very badly in Malta. It is not needful to enter 
into details; but the ladies of the island deemed it neces- 
sary to go into mourning for a hundred years. Conse- 

S5 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



quently the mourning comes to an end this year (1898). 
T do not know the precise day : but it will be interesting 
to learn whether the ]vlaltese girls look any prettier in 
Paris costumes than they did when we saw them attired 
in the faldette—z. black fluttering mantilla of silk, which 
gave rhem the appearance of very sparkling and fascina- 
ting Sisters of Mercy. Landing near the Custom House, 
and passing under an old arch, we climbed a long alley 
of steps, and soon found ourselves in the Strada Reale. 
After lunching at the Union Club, where we were kindly 
welcomed as temporary members, we sallied forth to 
visit the grandest church in the world — the Church of 
St. John. There is nolhing about the outside of the 
building to attract notice, but the magnificence of the 
interior is unequalled. The wealth 0^ its art treasures 
vras augmented by a law requiring every knight^ on pro- 
motion, to make a present to the church, cahed ''gioja : 
the Grand ^Master's contribution being limited to fifty 
ounces of gold. Xo wonder that in the two hundred 
and sixty-eight years of their rule the church increased 
in riches and in splendour. '"'How is it,"' inquired the 
Rich Banker, '"that we never succeed in decorating our 
English cathedrals and churches to such a point of 
exquisite finish?"" "Try gioja,"" answered the Com. 
The Banker made no reply : but I do not myself see how 
such a forced kind of contribution could be levied in 
England. 

Of course, I could, an I were so minded, give a 
graphic description of the paintings, and extol the 
masterly sotto in su of ^Matthias Preti : but I am not so 
minded : for of all beggarly futilities nothing is so utterly 
futile as a description of a picture by a penman. As 

86 



The Knights of Malta 

hopefully might a painter essay to portray on canvas, 
"in oils, three coats of the best quality," one of Aristotle's 
syllogisms, or a sonata by Beethoven. Besides which, 
the 'Varsity Man has warned me that if he catches me 
cribbing from any of the guide-books he will mercilessly 
expose me in the Westmmster Gazette. A third and 
conclusive reason for my abstention is my dread of the 
Hon. Sec, upon whose art department I should be 
unfairly trenching. But if any of my readers will take 
my word for it, that the treasures of the Church of St. 
John are priceless and "worth a visit," I will give him 
one bit of useful advice. Let him go and see them. If 
he cannot find time (or money) to do this, the next best 
thing he can do is to follow the advice of the elder 
Coleridge, when his son asked him for a hundred pounds 
with which to pay a visit to Rome. " What for ? " asked 
the father. " Oh," said the son, " one naturally likes to 
be able to say one has seen Rome." " In that case," 
replied Coleridge, say it! but don't waste the money." 
Obviously, gentle reader, there is nothing to prevent 
your saying that you have seen the Church of St. John ; 
but before saying it too loud you would do well to learn 
off by heart the eight columns which Murray devotes to 
the subject. He also gives what I have no doubt is an 
admirable plan of the church, plentifully sprinkled over 
with letters of the alphabet. How I used to loathe those 
plans at school — ground-plan of the Temple of Minerva ; 
plan of the battlefield of Cunaxa ; and so on. Why 
boys should be set to pore over such dreary details can 
be explained only on the principle that they ought to 
become reconciled in this world to what they may have 
to endure in the next. To me it seems that a good 

87 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



rousing picture of Artaxerxes killing Cyrus (if he did. or 
even if he did not) would be far more stimulating to the 
youthful mind. " But,'"' argues the stalwart defender of 
the old classical curriculum, '"boys must learn to labour 
at ^yhat they do not hke.'"' So they must, my dismal 
friend, so long as you and your fossil brigade have your 
way — but not a day longer. 

Our next visit was to the Chapel of Bones, a grim 
vault whose walls are covered from floor to ceihng with 
human bones, some of them arranged in geometrical 
patterns and others in such sort as to resemble pictures 
of Time, Death, and other cheerful subjects. The 
effect is altogether too grotesque and Iberian to suit 
Aryan taste, or to arouse the sentiment of awe. De 
vuviiiis^" the Com. was heard to mutter as he went 
out, '''/7/7 nisi boniiini' 'AVhat does that mean?"' in- 
quired the Warrior. Of the Dead, nothing is left but 
the bones,"'" the Com. answered with assumed gravity. 
" To be sure,"" assented Orlando solemnly ; we are all 
of us skeletons at heart, when you get the blues : but 
what"s the good of meetin" your end half way? Life"s 
a bit of all-right as long as you can hang on to it. All 
this charnel-house business is not in my line : let us clear 
out."" 

So we went to the Governor"s palace, originally the 
palace of the Grand blasters of the Order. It is in 
the severe but luxurious taste of the baronial age, and 
redolent of heraldry. Q)uaint old portraits of armour- 
clad warriors line the walls of the marbleqjaved corridors, 
and the council chamber is hung with Gobelin tapestry, 
which the British officer who courteously accompanied 
us over the building told us had been presented by 

88 



The Knights of Malta 

Louis XIV. J but which, there is good reason to believe, 
was paid for in hard cash by Grand Master Perellos. 
The armoury contains some very interesting rehcs of a 
happily bygone age : the silver trumpet which sounded 
the Knights' retreat from Rhodes, after their gallant stand 




A MORE MODERN WEAPON OF AVAR 



against the Turks ; the axe and sword of Dragoot, one 
of the Turkish commanders ; Charles V.'s original deed 
of gift of the island ; the papal bull founding the Order ; 
and a number of Masters' batons, weapons of war, and 
ancient trophies of various kinds. 

Here, if anywhere, the study of heraldry is possible. 
Not that it is or ever was a science, but as an art it had 
some pretension in the thirteenth and two following cen- 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

turies. Since then it has become the laughing-stock of the 
judicious and the happy hunting-ground of the snob and 
the dryasdust. A study \Yhich once formed part of a 
prince's regular education, and which occupied the atten- 
tion of some of most learned men of Europe, has now 
been relegated to coachbuilders and undertakers. At the 
same time, with all deference to the Heralds' College, and 
also to Ye Bake of St. Albans, it is not true that the bearing 
of heraldic devices dates back only to the twelfth century. 
It had its origin in the remotest antiquity. In our own 
time the Australian aborigines are divided into families 
distinguished by the name of some animal or vegetable, 
which serves as their crest or kobong ; and Red Indians 
are classed in clans, each having a crest, or tote7?i, of its 
own, such as Jaguar, Bull, Bear, which also suffices for 
a surname. Amongst them the tofe??i is held to be such 
good proof of descent that a man and woman bearing 
the same totevi are not allowed to marry. A very cursory 
inspection of the Egyptian tombs suffices to show that 
the germ of heraldry must be sought tens of centuries 
back, and not in the recent period of the Crusades, 
when it had lost all practical meaning and was of little 
use except as a rallying sign on helm, banner, pennon, 
and gonfalon. At the present day armorial bearings are 
still very useful, as Mrs. Midas will tell you, to enable 
you to distinguish nice " people from people who are — 
" well, not very nice, don't you know? " Otherwise, how 
can you possibly tell ? If it were not so, what would be 
the use of earls marshal, of kings-at-arms, of heralds, 
of pursuivants, and of several other important function- 
aries ? All things in nature have their uses, as we were 
taught in the nursery ; and of all things in heaven and 

90 



The Knights of Malta 

earth the most natural is a donkey. By the way, the 
donkey dates from the days of chivalry. You will never 
find one mentioned by a single writer before the days of 
Cervantes. Indeed, the first donkey ever heard of was a 
two-legged one— Don Quixote ; which name, when pro- 




DON QUIXOTE 



nounced by a Spaniard, is Donkeyhoty. That is as near 
as it can be written in English ; and this is the real 
origin of the word. The name of the Spanish knight 
so mercilessly lampooned by Cervantes was afterwards 
bestowed on the four-legged ass, not because he lacks 
intelligence, which he does not, but because he is stupid 
and obstinate, or, as we say when we admire those 
qualities, firm and determined. I am quite aware that 

91 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



this is not the dictionary derivation of the word ; but 
that is distinctly in its favour. 

When at length we steamed out of the Grand Harbour 
and waved farewell to Fort St. Elmo, we felt that, after 
all, perhaps the construction of a tunnel under the 
Straits of Dover might not reduce England to the 
position of a seventh-class Power ; that English arms 
and Enghsh heads might still be trusted to hold their 
own, even though not locked up in the nursery, or 
separated from bullying neighbours by the silver streak. 



92 



CHAPTER VI 



PAPYRUS LAND 

" Len, you seem to be suffering from some secret 
sorrow," said Orlando one day on deck, as the Maria 
breasted the grey waters ; " let me share it, and weep 
with you." 

" That will do," replied the Hon. Sec. gruffly. " Look 
here, I want to finish that adjourned game with Jus ; but 
they tell me the whole thing is off." 

Never finish an adjourned game," chipped in the 
Com. sententiously ; ^' it is a great mistake." 

" How so ? " inquired Len. 
Because," explained the Com. philosophically, " I 
have never yet known an adjourned contest in which 
each player had not got a won game. In the present 
case, both you and Jus have privately informed me of 
the fact. So that two men are made happy by an 
unfinished game, whereas, if played out, only one can 
rejoice." 

" Unless it is a draw," said Orlando, with strict atten- 
tion to the law of chances. 

" In that case," the Com. repHed, "one cup of happi- 
ness is divided between two ; and you have two half- 
happy men, instead of two wholly blissful." This 

93 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



specious bit of sophistry destroyed the last flickering 
hope that the tournament would be played out to a 
conclusion. Deck-quoits is a game which, with all its 
attractivecess — zinc bucket, chalk marks, hemp discs, 
and all — fails to rivet the attention after a spell of one 
hour. We had twenty-four to occupy somehow every 
day. The longitude makes no difference to the juimber 
of hours in a day : although the direction in Avhich you 
are steering lengthens or shortens both the day itself 
and the hours of which it is built up. As the day itself 
shortens, the hours shorten in proportion, so that at 
midnight there is never a bit of unfinished hour left 
sticking out. This is part and parcel of that beneficent 
design everywhere visible in the Cosmos, for which we 
have so much reason to be thankful. Suppose, for 
example, that, when the day lengthened, the hours 
remained of the same length. You would go off to } Our 
berth in plenty of time before midnight, and then you 
would find that the twcnty-fourrh hour had expired 
before the day was over. You would have literally no 
time to 9:0 to bed. and you might catch your deaih of 
cold. But it is otherwise ordained. Even while care- 
less man sleeps, and while his watch goes on ticking 
regardless of longitude, the sileiit hours expand and 
contract imperceptibly but precisely. Who can probe 
the mysterious powers of nature ? 

Hence, quoits being insuificient, and chess being 
tabooed, there was nothing for it but argument. Argu- 
ment is a grand resource. It is an excellent intellectual 
gvmnastic. It clears the mental atmosphere, and im- 
proves the mind. It makes good debaters and orators, 
and chastens the soul. 

94 



Papyrus Land 

Between leaving Malta and entering the harbour of 
Alexandria we were at sea three days and three nights, 
an interval of time which is invariably associated in the 
mind with the voyage of Jonah from Joppa to Nineveh. 
Which way did the whale go? It is clear that if, as 
some WTiters assert, the Suez Canal was at that remote 
period open to traffic, he would have selected that 
course. But, if not, no choice was open to him but the 
journey through the Straits of Gibraltar and round by 
the Cape of Good Hope to the Persian Gulf. Historians 
are now agreed that the old canal connected the Red 
Sea with the Bitter lakes, but not with the Mediterranean. 
In that case the whale must have taken the longer 
route, and have performed the journey at the rate of 
about three thousand miles a day, or w^ell over a 
hundred knots an hour. This is three times as quick as 
the fastest cruiser afloat. But I must not stay to 
examine this profound theme and its bearing on human 
conduct. 

We reached Alexandria at 9 a.m., but it was 4 p.m. 
before we succeeded in crossing the bar. During 
all these seven wasted hours we could see the pilot- 
boat flitting backwards and forwards at the harbour 
entrance, but either unable or unwilling to come to our 
assistance. It appears that, after all the enormous 
sums spent on the construction of the harbour, it is 
dangerous for any unpiloted ship drawing more than 
fourteen feet of water to cross the bar. More 
especially is she liable to break her back in a lumpy 
sea. However, at last our gallant Commodore, weary 
of the delay, and perhaps a bit sceptical as to the 
danger, advised running the blockade. Our intention 

95 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

being made clear through the captain to the pilot, he 
guided us by signals from afar through the tortuous 
windings of the channel, and we glided into tranquil 
waters. A fellow sufferer, a cargo-boat, was left kicking 
about outside all that day and the following night. 




SOME BIG HOLES 



We did not waste much time over the most disap- 
pointing of all cities, with its filthy and billowy apologies 
for streets, its squalid suburbs and its motley and 
draggled population of disreputable Greeks, low-caste 
x\rabs, abject Jews, and nondescripts, all taken together 
a novel but otherwise repulsive crowd. The Warrior 
insisted on showing us the wreckage wrought in the 
fortifications by the English ironclads in 18S2, much of 

96 



Papyrus Land 

which is still left untouched as a terror to evil-doers. 
The Hon. Sec. photographed a hole through which an 
elephant might easily be flung by any one strong enough 




POLICE^IAX PO^IPEY'S PILLAR 

to fling it. And then we drove off to inspect Pompey's 
pillar, a fine red granite column a hundred feet high on 
the highest eminence in Alexandria, and historically 
interesting as having nothing to do with Pompey. When 
I say Pompey, I mean Pompey. That the policeman 

97 G 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



who looked after its erection three centuries after the 
death of Pompey happened also to be named Pompey 
is a matter of no importance. The pillar seems to have 
been put up in honour of Diocletian. 

The city itself was built six centuries earlier by 
Alexander, called the Great because of the stir and 
racket that he made all the world over. Even a great 
nuisance is great. Here he was buried in a golden coffin. 
Gold and silver make excellent coffins for a short time. 
Some years later it occurred to Ptolemy Kokkes, whom 
we may cah Cocky Ptolemy, that whereas a glass coffin 
would do just as well for the dead Alexander, the gold 
one might conveniently be converted to better uses by 
the living Cocky. And it was so. 

I need hardly say that the Pharos lighthouse, which 
was once looked upon as one of the seven wonders of 
the world, has long since vanished. A generation ago 
the traveller could see two beautiful obelisks of syenite, 
fetched by Tiberius from the city of On : but they have 
both disappeared, and now one is to be seen on the 
Thames Embankment in London, and the other in 
Central Park at New York, where amid uncongenial 
surroundings they are both crumbling away at a greater 
rate per decade than they did per millennium in their 
old home. Those patriotic rulers, ^vlahomed Ali and 
Ismail, presented them respectively to the British and 
American Governments. Like Pompey's pillar, they 
are called ^'Cleopatra's needles'' because Cleopatra had 
nothing whatever to do with them, Twenty years ago 
the English one (by adoption) enjoyed a few days' 
tossing in the Pay of Biscay "mit itselbe" after bi-ing 
abandoned by the tug in tow of which it sut out. 

98 



Papyrus Land 



One of the most lamentable events in all history is the 
burning of the priceless library founded by Ptolemy 
Soter three hundred years b.c, which occurred during 
the capture of Alexandria by Julius Caesar — certainly not, 
we may rest assured, with his consent. It then contained 
about half a million manuscript books, including pro- 
bably the ancient and trustworthy histories of Ancient 
Egypt by native authors from the earliest dates. When 
Alexandria was taken in 640 a.d. by the Saracens under 
the Khalif Omar's general Amru, another enormous 
library was devoured by the flames, equally to the sorrow, 
we may be sure, of that potentate. The loss of the books 
which then perished is less to be regretted, consisting as 
they doubtless did, in the main, of the wranglings and 
vapourings of the Fathers, who out of the seething cauldron 
of old-world fables fashioned the eclectic creed of the 
Dark Ages. Concerning which disputations and their 
like another and a greater Omar sang eight hundred 
years ago : — 

" Myself when young did eagerly frequent 
Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument 
About it and about : but evermore 
Came out by the same door where in I went," 

About this second (or third) great book-fire there is a 
fanatical utterance usually attributed to Omar the Khalif. 

If the books agree with the Book of God, they are use- 
less ; if they disagree, they are pernicious." Of course 
Omar never said anything so foolish, but Cardinal 
Ximenes did — nearly a thousand years later ! 

The Literary Failure was expatiating on the irreparable 
loss occasioned by these conflagrations to a bright youth 
in an Eton jacket and turned-down collar. " Ah ! " 

99 
L.of C 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



replied the youth with enthusiasm, " there is a special 
providence which watches over schoolboys. With such 
an appalling addition to classical literature school life 
would be unendurable." The Literary Failure was 
shocked, but chastened. After all, he reflected, if the 
library of the British Museum and all the other great 
libraries were consumed, should we know much the less 
of all that is worth knowing ? If all the books in the 
world, and all the papers, were piled up in a heap 
on the sands of Gizeh, they would form a pyramid 
vastly bigger than the pyramid of Cheops ; but if all the 
words of true wisdom were extracted from the heap, and 
reprinted in a single big volume, it would not be more 
than a camel could carry. I am not going to re-open 
the " hundred best books " controversy ; but, with the 
exception of the present work, the " Arabian Nights," 
Aristotle's "Ethics," "Alice in Wonderland," Spencer's 
"Synthetic Philosophy," Pimch^ "Gulliver's Travels," 
Bacon's "Plays," " Struwwelpeter," the Koran, and the 
Pi7ik U?K what books, I ask, would contribute much 
to that grand volume ? 

But away with all these depressing speculations ! The 
bell rings. The train is about to start for Cairo, the 
Capital of the Four Worlds — of the East and the West, 
the Ancient and the Modern. "Tickets, please." And 
away we go, through fields of cotton, of durra, of wheat 
and of sugar-cane. Date-palms drop their golden fruit, 
and the people catch them in bags of net. Camels and 
asses and turbaned men with swarthy faces proceed in 
single file along the battened paths from one group of 
mud huts to another ; and tiny village mosques peep out 
from groves of acacia and sycamore. It is a unique 

lOO 



Papyrus Land 

landscape, unlike anything seen in Europe, excepting 
the pictures in the old Bibles illustrating the wanderings 
of the Israelites in the desert of Sinai. 

When we reached Cairo it was quite dark ; so, under 
the cover of the wing of ebon night, we trundled in a 
'bus to the Gezireh Palace, which was built by the late 
(but hardly lamented) Khedive Ismail, not so much for 
our accommodation as for his own. It is situated some 
distance out of the town, and on the other side of the 
Nile bridge, which is a quarter of a mile long. Talking 
of 'buses, I hold that a 'bus is the safest of all sanctuaries 
for the hunted felon or persecuted martyr. If I were 

wanted " by Sherlock Holmes, or pursued by Thugs, 
or members of a secret society, I should take my seat on 
the knife-board of a London 'bus with a complete sense 
of security. I have tried the experiment repeatedly in 
Piccadilly and have invariably succeeded in effecting the 
journey from the Circus to Hyde Park Corner without 
being observed by a single lady of my acquaintance. 

How is it you all cut me to-day?" I inquired one 
afternoon of a galaxy of duchesses, empresses, and 
sultanas, at a garden party. 

*'0h, really," they replied in chorus, *^we never saw 
you." And one of the youngest and fairest of them 
added, " But you have no idea how ridiculous you looked 
perched up there." 

This fully confirms Edgar Allan Poe's theory that the 
safest place for a stolen State paper is in an open envelope 
on your library chimney-piece. Indeed, that is exactly 
where I always keep them now. 

As a palace, the building may have had advantages, 
but as an hotel, its halls and rooms are too spacious for 

101 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



the sparse visitors, at all events before Christmas, and it 
is too "far from the madding crowd.'" The gardens 
by the riverside are pleasant enough, especially to the 
European, unused to strolling among baobabs and aloes, 
and banyans and palms. There stands the pretty kiosk, 
in which to shelter from the sun. And there is the 
harem, which we explored ; but, alas I the houris had all 
fled. Where are they all? It does not much matter,'' 
muttered the Warrior: '^they must be getting on by 
this." 

Anyhow, they cannot be as old as the baobabs, which 
live to the age of six thousand years — so we have it on 
the high authority of De Candolle. If ladies lived as long 
as baobabs, Eve might now be relating to her great-great- 
great . . . grandchildren some of her early experiences 
in a still more beautiful garden. How she Avould loathe 
the sight of apples 1 How wistfully she would look back 
at the good old days wht:n the lion lay down with the 
lamb, and the school-girl with the earwig ; and when 
snakes used to hop on the points of their tails like 
animated walking-sticks, instead of having to shuffle 
along on their — ahem I — stomachs. Even these reflec- 
tions soon lost their savour : so we left the desolate 
palace, and took up our abode at the livelier and more 
comfortable Shepheard's Hotel, in the midst of all the 
fun of the fair. 

Before we left, and while we were still lingering on 
the doorsteps, a carriage dashed up to the door, pre- 
ceded by a couple of handsome " sais *' in their comely, yet 
manly costume. How these splendid specimens of the 
human species contrive to keep ahead of thorough-paced 
carriage-horses without losing their wind, and this for 

102 



Papyrus Land 



mi^es at a spell, is a puzzle to those whose youth is spent 
" with blinded eyesight, poring over miserable books." 

Out of the carriage stepped Lord Cromer. He had 
called to take the Gaekwar of Baroda for a diive with 
the King of Siam. 




LORD CROMER CALLS OX THE GAEKWAR 



"There goes the King of Egypt," said a stranger near 
us. And he w^as not far wrong. What significant hand- 
shakings are these, between East and West, in the 
Capital of all Nations ! They recall some of the gather- 
ings in Rome in the glorious days of Marius and Jugurtha. 
If Britain has learnt much from Rome, she has also 
bettered the instruction. A couple of millenniums 
affords time for reflection. But it is not fifty years 

103 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



since Baroda and Sattarah saw the seamy side of the 
Union Jack ! 

Thanks to such Enghshmen as George AVashington 
and Wihiam Gladstone, tributary States are now un- 
known vrithin the vast boundaries of the British Empire. 
The very word tribute is as dead as sL^very.''" 

The present Gaekwar is an amiable, polished gentle- 
man without Oriental ostentation — without any side 
on,"" as the Warrior put it. 

The ''King of Egypt presents the appearance of a 
man firm of purpose, and kindly of disposition, whom 
one would expect to find conducting aftairs of state 
suavitc}' in niodo, fort iter in ;v. Such is the king de 
facto. Of the king de Jure, as we must still continue to 
regard the Khedive, I would prefer to say nothing, 
except that he and his kinsfolk have too many palaces, 
having regard to the taxable value of Egypt, and that he 
appears to be unpopular with the poorer classes. He 
and all his belongings represent the crumbling fabric of 
Turkish rule. He is the centre round which gyrate the 
discontented remnants of Pashadom, with all its venality, 
licentiousness, and oppression. Still, 1 prefer to say 
nothing. I might say, with a former Bishop of Gloucester, 
" Don't nail his ears to the pump"" — but such advice might 
be misinterpreted by my Arab friends. 

The view from the citadel is vast, but, except for the 
pyramids on the horizon, not grand, nor even pic- 
turesque. It might be some large European town spread 
over a flat plain, but bristling with mosque-minarets 
instead of church-spires — that is all. 

Ear the most striking feature of Cairo is its populace. 
In no spot on the surface of the globe is there to be 

104 



Papyrus Land 

found such a heterogeneous concourse of men and 
women, differing in race, in complexion, and in dress. 
Coffee-coloured Arabs, coal-black Nubians, fair Saxons, 
grey-skinned Bedouins, dusky Turks, bronze Syrians, and 
pallid French josde each other in the streets. The pro- 




KHEDIVE'S PALACE AT ALEXANDRIA 



perty-room of Drury Lane Theatre could not turn out 
such a raree-show of raiment — such a medley of turbans, 
straws, fezes, tall hats, caps, and cork-helmets ; of caftans, 
white and blue burnooses, breeches, calico pants, and 
cloaks ; of black and buff shoes, red and yellow slippers^ 
sandals and neekes." The like is nowhere seen. As * 
for languages, surely Babel was not in it. What the 
resultant of forces will be, no one can foretell. Well, I 

105 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

withdraw that. There are plenty who can foretell, but 
none who can foresee and foreknow. 

What language will be eventually spoken in Cairo ? " 
inquired Clare. 

"Enghsh," I suppose, answered the Hon. Sec. 
Arabic, I should say," remarked the Banker, 

"A jumble of the two perhaps/' suggested the Com., 
" with a substratum of Latin and a dash of Chinese : 
what do you say, Orlando ? " 

''Well," replied the Warrior with even more than usual 
of his characteristic wiliness, next time they ask you 
tell them you don't know." 

Perhaps he was right ; but it is always unpleasant to 
have to confess that you don't know. Some people 
think it is better to have a shot at it and risk it. If they 
hit the mark, it is remembered ; if they miss, it is for- 
gotten. Look at dreams and presentiments. Ninety- 
nine out of a hundred remain unfulfilled. Nobody ever 
mentions them. One comes true, and everybody racks 
his brain, or his batter (as the case may be), to account 
for the marvel. 

The real marvel would be if one of these premonitions 
did 7iot occasionally turn out to be prophetic. The 
Psychical Research Society, I believe, publishes what I 
may call the lucky " warnings." Let me supply them with 
two from my own personal experience. A lady friend of 

mine, a I^Irs. B , heard one night, or dreamt she 

heard — she could not be sure which — a dog howling out- 
side her window as though in distress. Next morning 
dear little Toby was no more. He had wagged his last 
tail at the very identical moment at which she had 
heard, or dreamt she heard, the howl. How do you 

io6 



Papyrus Land 

account for that ? My friend, Professor Sidgwick, will 
tell us that it was a case of unconscious cerebration. 
But other authorities maintain that it is simply hyper- 
aesthetic ganglionic activity rhythmically synchronous 
with external actualities : simply that and nothing more. 
I incline to the latter hypothesis. 

But I must get on with my second case, which is still 
more remarkable and sensational. One day I met an 
old schoolfellow whom I had not heard of for twenty 
years. He told me that he was married — that is all. He 
did not describe his wife in any way. That very night I 
dreamt that I met him again on the towpath. He was 
accompanied by his wife. When I woke up I remem- 
bered her distinctly. I got up and dressed (one usually 
does), called upon my friend and related my dream. 
He was much interested. Now tell me," he said, 
^^what is she like?" I did so without the slightest 
hesitation. I said : She was tall, dark, slim, with large 
hazel eyes : she spoke with a shght French accent ; she 
was dressed in a blue serge matelot costume, and wore a 
straw hat with an Oxford -blue ribbon : her auburn hair 
was cut into a short curly fringe, and kept close to her 
forehead by a little invisible veil ; and she had a yellow 
rose in her waistband." 

As I proceeded his wonder increased with every word. 
His eyes dilated. He caught his breath. When I had 
concluded, he seized me by the hand. 

" My dear fellow," he gasped, " this is the most 
remarkable thing I have ever known. You have 
described my wife in no less than a dozen particulars; 
and I assure you they are in every single respect abso- 
lutely — wro7igr 

107 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

If the Ps}xhical Research Society care for the story, 
they are welcome to it : and my friend is prepared to 
make an allidavit as to its truth. 




SELIM G.IZZIRI 



The University ^vlosque, over which we were conducted 
by our Syrian friend and dragoman, Sehm Gazziri, is not 
a bit hke either Cambridge or Oxford. Upon that Clare 
and Jus were agreed. To begin with, the students all sit 
on the floor, and, what is still more remarkable, the Dons 

io8 



Papyrus Land 

(or whatever the preceptors are called) do the same. The 
ten thousand or so who were at lessons when we entered 
seemed to be trying to get the Koran off by heart. In 
order to avoid the distraction of hearing his neighbour's 
muttering, each student mutters, or tries to mutter, a 
shade louder still, just as every Londoner in the Park 
tries to walk an inch taller than his co-pedestrians, and 
with the same result — the pre-ordained relation is pre- 
served. 

This is one of the laws of nature ; but there are 
others worth knowing. The Com. in his haste kicked 
off one of the roomy slippers in which the feet of 
visitors are encased at the entrance, whereupon some 
muezzin or fakir rushed up and flung a stick violently on 
the ground, to witness in the sight of heaven that he 
was no party to the sacrilege. The Com. put his slipper 
on again, and the great globe went on spinning down 
the grooves of change," just as though nothing had 
happened. 

To what race these young and studious fellows 
belong it is difficult to say. They seem to be decidedly 
a mixed company. That a few of them, perhaps a 
good many of them, are of the same race as Rameses 
and Seti seems highly probable. A mixed race does 
not necessarily imply a race of mixed individuals. 
For example, you may have a mixed poultry-yard, in 
which every one of the fowls is a thoroughbred 
Leghorn or Orpington or Wyandotte. Or you may have 
a poultry-yard in which all the fowls are barn-door 
mongrels. So it is with nationalities. The Austrians are 
a mixed people, but as a rule the inhabitants are either 
thoroughbred Hungarians, or thoroughbred Czechs, or 

109 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

thoroughbred Germans, autcetera. The half-breeds are 
probably an insignificant minority. This tendency to 
purity is more marked in some races than in others. 
If you left horses and asses together in perpetuity you 
would always find some mules among them, but most of 
the animals would run to purity of breed. You would 
never have a race of mules. On the other hand, when 
numerous varieties of pigeons are left together un- 
selected by man, their differences tend to disappear, 
and you have a uniform race of blue rocks. In Egypt 
there has been a great admixture of races from time 
immemorial, but I see little evidence of blend — of the 
formation of a new Egyptian type. The Nubian is, 
and the Cushite was, the black-skinned, broad-faced, 
handsome fellow we see on the walls of the temples 
and in the bazaars of Assouan. The thoroughbred 
Arab, again, is the same rich coffee-coloured, wiry, 
long-limbed athlete we see in the portraits of the Rame- 
sids. Again, the statues of the Hyksos are as unmis- 
takably Hebrew as the Jews in the bazaars. The 
Mizraim, or twinlands, were united, now under the Arab, 
and now under the Hyksos ; and both were overrun by 
the black warriors of Cush ; but all three have preserved 
their identity to this day. Therefore, in this sense of 
the words, the Egyptians are 7iot a mixed race, but a 
mixture of distinct races — a very different thing, as any 
poultry-breeder will at once admit. There are mules 
among them in plenty, as in England, but these ever 
tend towards elimination. The true Egyptian still 
predominates in Upper Egypt between Cairo and 
Assouan, the Nubian, or Cushite, to the south of him, 
and the Semite, or Hyksos, to the north of him, in 

I lO 



Papyrus Land 



Lower Egypt. This may help to explain why the 
women of the Delta are so remarkably plain," whereas 
the women of the two other divisions of the Nile 




A YOUNG NUBIAN 



country are so extremely good-looking. There is no 
mistaking these three chief historic races. The Bedouins 
seem to be a really mixed race — a cross between the 
Arab and the old Berber. The qualities of the several 
races are as markedly distinct as their appearance and 

III 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

anatomy. The half-bred Berber of the desert is as 
surely destined to die out before the advancing tide of 
civilization as the Red Indian of North America. But 
whether a corner will be reserved for the handsome 
Nubian, with his large glittering eyes, his curly black 



hair, and his teeth of immaculate ivory, is harder to 
predict. Possibly the equatorial regions will prove too 
warm for the conquering Aryan, even under gradual 
accHmatisation ; and thither the ebon sons of Cush may 
be driven, and left in peace. 

We Englanders have much to learn from our Egyptian 
brethren. Their taste, not only in dress but in deport- 
ment and in ceremonial, is incomparably superior to 





A FUNERAL 



112 



Papyrus Land 



ours. Their funerals, of which we witnessed several of 
some circumstance, are stately, solemn, and impressive 
without being ghoulish — no vulgar plumes, no paid 
mutes, no reek of the crypt about them. Their 
weddings are bright and picturesque, and consequently 
unlike our Hanover Square processions, or the ridiculous 
wedding parties one meets in the Bois de Vincennes. 
Bridegrooms are not expected to look comic. 

Joseph's Well, which is a deep shaft, reaching from 
the top of the citadel to below the river-level, furnishes 
another of those misnomers in which Egypt abounds 
and seems to take a positive delight. The tourist is 
told that this well was sunk by Joseph, the Jewish 
patriarch ; but, apart from other considerations, Joseph, 
if ever he had S'jnk a well in Egypt, would have done it 
some seventeen miles higher up the river, at Memphis. 
In his days Cairo was non-existent. The Blue Nile 
itself must be added to the list, since it appears to derive 
its name from its colour, w^hich is of a distinctly brown 
hue. What with the Blue Nile, Joseph's Well, Pompey's 
Pillar, and Cleopatra's Needles, the hasty traveller is apt 
to get a little mixed. Another source of confusion is 
the double or optional name, not only of every Egyptian 
god, but of nearly every Egyptian town. Of this we 
shall take note as we proceed up the river. 

In one respect Cairo resembles Paris under the 
Empire. The rolling of drums and the tramp of 
soldiers never cease. As we sat in the verandah of 
Shepheard's, hardly an hour passed without the sound 
of military music. There go the buff-skinned Egyptians 
in their buff uniform ; there go the Cameron Highlanders 
with their yellow hair; after them come the Lincolnshire 

113 H 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

and Warwickshire Reo^iments with their bonnv Eno:Ush 
faces. To the officers of the 21st Lancers we were much 
beholden for their right British hospitahty, both at the 
Turf Club and the Khedivial. They introduced us not 
only to the gayest, but also to the shadiest scenes of 




IMARCHIXG PAST SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL 



" Outcast Cairo.'"' The low-fast life of the place may 
fairly be described as beastly without being seductive. 
It was a refreshing change to repair to the Theatre Royal, 
and witness the boxing tournament of the Soldiers' Club. 
Some of the men showed capital form. 

To describe the religion of the modern Egyptians 
is no easy task. Speaking roughly, it is a variety of 
Christianity called ^^lahoiumcdanism. They believe in 

114 



Papyrus Land 

one God, the Maker and Ruler of the universe, and 
the Rewarder of good and evil; in the immortality of 
the soul, and in special divine revelations to mankind. 
They believe that certain holy men, or prophets, were 
particularly commissioned, or inspired, to convey the 
truth from Allah or Jehovah to his people. Of these 
the chief were Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses, Solomon, 
Elijah, Jesus, and Mahomed. So far there is little to 
distinguish it from the Christianity of Western Europe, 
But when we descend to the detailed corruptions which 
have crept into the simple gospel of Monotheism on 
both sides of the Mediterranean, we find a marked 
contrast. While the Northern or European form of 
Christianity called Catholic has gravitated, towards ex- 
ternal idolatry, the Southern or Mahommedan form 
has gravitated towards internal ecstasy. If the im- 
becilities of Lourdes, the inanities of the purgatorial 
staircase at Rome, the painted statuettes, winking idols 
and jewelled bambinos, and the mummeries of the Vatican 
excite contempt on the one hand, the maniacal whirlings 
and the bestial antics and gruntings of the dancing and 
howling dervishes excite disgust on the other. In so 
far as the two religions are pure, the outcome of noble 
strivings towards virtue and towards a knowledge of the 
spiritual side of nature, they are practically one and the 
same. In so far as they are the degraded offspring of 
priestcraft and carnaUty, they differ widely. The one 
shows us Monotheism tricked out in the childish trinketry 
of a dead mythology — Greek, Latin, and Teutonic. The 
other shows it steeped in the sensuous and intoxicating 
mysticism of decadent Alexandrian philosophers and 
Persian dreamers. There is no health in either. 

IIS 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



There are numerous monastic orders of the Mahomme- 
dans. perhaps thirty or forty. The particuLar sect of 
dancing dervishes whose gyrations we witnessed was 
founded by a Fakir named Mevhana (and hence they 
arc caUed ]\Ievlevi;, about the time that Simon de 
!Montfort was founding the Enghsh House of Commons, 
that is to say, about six centuries ago. Their doctrines 
are very pecuhar. and their customs and ceremonies 
more so. They wcar long drab fezes or c}'lindrical hats 
of unbleached material. Their undercoats are white, and 
so constructed that when the wearer spins round on his 
heel they spread out in the form of a candle-extinguisher. 
This spinning is kept up for two hours at a stretch, till 
some of the dancers drop down with fatigue or dizziness. 
Long practice is reo^uired : and the noviciate's term of 
probation is exactly one thousand and one days. This is 
the mystic number of the ^Mevlevi-f^s ; it is also the 
number chosen by the author of Sheherazade's won- 
derful Arabian tales. It is not chosen by caprice, as is 
coimmon-y supposed. At least, I think not. We all 
know the veneration which the Orientals attach to the 
numbers 7 and 12. The choice of 12 is based on 
mathematical reasons connected with ancient weights 
and measures, but being an even number, it was held 
to be unlucky by the superstitious. AA'ith the duo- 
decimal system.'" writes ^h. P. Smith, speaking of the 
early Roman Kalendar, "'there had come in a super- 
stitious regard for the good luck of odd numbers." This 
belief he traces to the Etruscans, who probably derived 
it from the East. So tnat Rory OAIore cannot claim 
originality in the matter. Instead, therefore, of dividing 
the year into months of 30 days each, Xuma divided 

116 



Papyrus Land 



it into full months of 31 days and hollow months of 
29 days. Similarly the holy men of the East selected 
the prime numbers 11 and 13, instead of 12. Now, if 
you multiply together the odd numbers 7, 11, and 13, 
you obtain the mystic number looi. This accounts for 
the thousand and one nights, and also for the Mevlevi 
noviciate. There are other points of similarity between 
the famous stories and the customs of the dancing 
dervishes, which, so far as I know, have not received 
notice. 

*'The place," says Dr. Taylor, where the candidate 
receives instruction in spiritual knowledge is none other 
than the kitchen of the convent. During his noviciate 
he is called the scullion ; and it is by the head cook that 
he is presented to the superior, as worthy of full admis- 
sion. The cook assists at the ceremony of initiation, 
and holds the head of the novice, while the superior 
pronounces over him some verses. The prayer called 
Tekbu is then chanted, after which the superior places 
upon the head of the novice the cylindrical cap." Surely 
this will recall to the mind of the reader of the " Arabian 
Nights " the scene in the Sultan's kitchen when the fisher- 
man brings in the white, red, blue, and yellow fishes, 
which he had caught in the mystic pond in obedience to 
the command of the Gin. When the cook thought they 
were enough fried on one side, she turned them over in 
the frying-pan ; " but, oh, monstrous prodigy ! scarce 
were they turned, when the wall of the kitchen opened, 
and in came a young lady of wonderful beauty and 
comely size. . . . Striking one of the fishes she ex- 
claimed, 'Fish, fish, art thou in thy duty?' . . . And 
the four fishes lifted up their heads and said to her, 

117 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



' Yes, yes : if you reckon, we reckon ; if you pay your 
debts, we pay ours : if you fly, we overcome, and are 
content.'' As soon as they had finished these words, the 
Lady overturned the frying-pan,'' You remember, after 
that, the extraordinary spectacle was witnessed again ; 
thi? rime in the presence of the Vizir ; and again, in the 
presence of the Sultan himself. Finally, the fisherman 
was loaded with wealth and lived happily ever after. It 
is strange that, although music and dancing were both 
forbidden by ]^Iahommedan tradition, this singular sect 
embodies them in its religious services. The flute or 
7iei is a windy, gasping kind of instrument, and the music 
which proceeds from it is distinctly dismal and weird. 
By the dervishes it is believed to be sweet and lovesick. 
According to them God is Love, in the human sense — 
Eros. Human beings are but detached portions of the 
Eternal Spirit, whose whole earthly career is one long 
patient yearning to return to the great fountain of bliss 
from which they emanated. Sir William Jones has given 
us a translation of one of their sacred hymns, from which 
I extract a characteristic portion : 

" Hear how yon reed, in sadly-pleasing tales 
Departed bliss and present woe bewails I 

' With me from native banks untimely torn 
Love-warbling youths and soft-eyed virgins mourn, 
O, let the heart by fatal absence rent 
Feel what I sing, and bleed when I lament : 
Who roams in exile from his parent bower 
Pants to return, and chides each lingering hour.' 

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 

" 'Tis love that fills the reed with warmth divine 
'Tis love that sparkles in the racy wine 
ii8 



Papyrus Land 

Me, plaintive wanderer from my peerless maid 
The reed has fired, and all my soul betrayed. 
* * * * 

" Hail heavenly Love, true source of endless gains ! 
Thy balm restores me, and thy skill sustains. 
O, more than Galen learned, than Plato wise ! 
My Guide, my Law, my Joy supreme, arise ! • 
Love warms the frigid clay with mystic fire ; 
And dancing mountains leap with young desire. 
Blest is the soul that swims in seas of love ; 
And long the life sustained by food above. 
With forms imperfect, can perfection dwell ? 
Here pause my song ; and thou, vain world. Farewell." 

It is hardly necessary to point out that all this is clearly 
Persian in sentiment. Indeed, the founder of the sect 
lived in Asia Minor. Doctor Taylor's comment upon it 
is almost amusing : This hazardous mixture of luxurious 
imagery with ascetic sentiments is not without a parallel 
even in Europe : the life of St. Catherine may be cited 
as an example ; but the subject is too painful to our 
feelings to be examined at greater length." 

It is surely needless to point out that the vagaries 
of the grotesque dervishes, who "perform" on Fridays 
only, are looked down upon by the great majority of 
Mahommedans with as much scorn as that which 
Englishmen lavish on the tambourine brigade of mihtant 
Christianity, and Frenchmen on the pilgrims to Lourdes. 
Indeed, without counting curious spectators, I doubt 
whether the "services" at either of the mosques are 
attended by a hundred serious w^orshippers. I observed 
but one thoroughbred Arab at the howling pandemonium. 
The seats at the vulgar exhibitions are, of course, paid 
for, which may account for the persistence of the cult. 

119 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Europeans usually laugh at these corybantic fooleries ; 
but they would do better to look at home. 

However, I feel I am getting serious; and a serious 
man is an intolerable anachronism in this age of fin- 
de-siecle cynicism. Let us therefore to the polo match 
in the grounds of the Khedivial Club. Wherever you 
see English cavalry you may see good horsemanship. 
Touching this word an inquiring Frenchman once 
observed, "The horse I see, and the man I see; but 
where is the ship ? " I was surprised to observe, though 
I probably exhibit my own ignorance by saying so, that 
there was not a single bay horse on the ground : they 
were all chestnuts, greys, whites, and blacks. In the 
Row or the English hunting field, I suppose you will see 
as many bays as all other colours put together. Is it 
that the Arab horse has no bay variety? "The Arabs 
themselves do not run to carrots," the Warrior remarked 
with briUiant intuition. But what has that got to do 
with their horses ? 



CHAPTER VII 



THE PYRAMID BUILDERS 

Exactly five thousand years ago there lived a beautiful 
lady named " Rosy Belle.'' This, as the reader knows, 
is in Egyptian Nit-aqert, a name which the Greeks 
very properly pronounced Nitocris. (The printer is quite 
certain to put a u in between the q and the but if he 
does I shall strike it out again.) This princess being so 
lovely was made the Queen of Egypt, and that is just 
about all we know of the history of the country between 
the thirty-first and twenty-fifth centuries, when Amen- 
emhat came to the throne. 

The name Nitocris has more recently been conferred 
upon a pretty little steam dahabieh, about one hundred 
feet long and fifteen broad. She has a horse-power of 
eighty, and she steams at ten knots an hour. Not 
really ; because she is always going either up or down 
the Nile (except when she is lying still), and when she is 
going up stream she makes only seven knots ; but when 
she is going down stream she does thirteen. This will 
give the mathematical reader some clue to the speed of 
the Nile itself. And when I tell him that it is four hun- 
dred and fifty miles from Karnak to Cairo, he will be in a 
position to calculate how long it would take him to 

12 1 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

accomplish the journey in a tub, without any paddle. 
Six days and six hours I believe, is the answer. 

The Nitocris^ we were told, is ^' specially fitted and 
adapted for a small family, invalids, or shooting expedi- 
tions." We were not a small family; we were certainly 




THE XITOCRIS 



not invalids ; but we were in a sense a shooting expedi- 
tion, for we were firmly bent on shooting the cataract. 
Hence the Com. promptly chartered the dahabieh 
Nitocris^ and we left Cairo on November i8, on our 
great expedition to the cradle of civilization. It must 
not be supposed that we had not previously visited the 
pyramids and the Gizeh Museum and many other places, 
but from this point I propose to treat of all we saw in 

122 



The Pyramid Builders 

this wonderful country in its proper place — just as I 
spoke of Cleopatra's Needle when we were at Alexandria, 
and not when we were at the club on the Thames 
Embankment. 

It was on November 24 that we lay-to for the night 
at a place called Girgeh, about three hundred and forty 
miles from Cairo, as the river winds. 

Where are we now ? '' inquired the Warrior, sauntering 
up to the Com. on deck before breakfast. 

Girgeh," was the reply; ''that is the present name 
of the place : This is its ancient name." 

''Which?" asked Orlando. 

"This," replied the Com. provokingly. 

"What, Girgeh?" 

" No, that is the modern name : This is the ancient 
name." 

Orlando was puzzled. " Whom are you trying to get at 
now ? " he said after a pause. 

The Com. looked grave. " Either you cannot under- 
stand plain English," he observed, "or I cannot speak 
plain Egyptian. THIS (t-h-i-s) is the name which the 
Egyptians gave to the oldest town in the worlds the 
first of which we possess any knowledge. Mena, the 
first human king of Egypt, lived at This. You are now 
staring at his birthplace, and at the birthplace of civilisa- 
tion. He afterwards built Memphis." 

Orlando saw, and was pacified. " Dear, dear," he 
said, " what a devil of an old place it must be ! but 
surely Noah and Abraham and Adam, and those fellows 
lived in towns of some sort long before that." 

"My dear fellow," said the Com., " Mena lived nearly 
a thousand years before Adam." 

123 



Down the Stream of Civilization i 

I 

The Warrior looked at his companion, said nothing, 
and walked away to where the Hon. Sec. was adjusting j 
his camera for a shot at Town One. ; 

I say, Len,'"" he whispered, ''what ought we to do ? ' 
The Com. is going dotty. Do you think it is safe to 
leave him alone ? He says there was a fellow walking 
about here before Adam was born."'" 

''•'Adam never was born,'" muttered the Hon. Sec. 
without looking up. •*' I advise you to take a pih, followed 
by half an hour of ' Ermann"s Ancient Egyptians ' ; it 
might clear the cobwebs out of your attic.'"'" 

Orlando went below and tried hot coffee. '* I must 
be dreaming,'"' he said. 

The Literary Failure had selected a berth on the pert 
side with a little window where the sun came peeping 
in at morn. It never came a wink too soon nor brought 
too long a day ; "" but the Rich Banker had chosen his on 
the starboard side, where the sun did not come peeping 
in at morn. 

We get plenty of it all day on deck,"' he said ; " I can 
dispense with its company during my beauty sleep. "'" 

Some people"s ideal of dreamland is Nirvana ; others 
prefer the wild imaginings which follow opium-smoking ; 
there are some who hold that a snooze in a gutter with a 
pint of hot Scotch inside is the acme of bliss. For my 
part I ask for nothing better than to lie half-wake and 
half-asleep hemmed snugly in by snow-white mosquito 
nets all gilded by the rays of the rising sun : to listen to 
the lap{)ing of the water and the creaking of the 
shadoofs : to watch the palms glide by and the yellow 
cliffs with the black alluvial carpet at foot, spotted over 
with strings of camels and goats and asses and merry 

1^4 



The Pyramid Builders 

brown boys ; to follow the flight of the inquisitive wag- 
tails, as they dart round the dahabieh; and, above all, to 
feel that Ah will not come banging about in the bathroom 




SAILING DOWN 



next door for another hour at least ; and that when he 
does come, as come he must, the labours of Youssouf 
will aftbrd an ample consolation. Youssouf was our 
cook, and I never sat for any length of time to a better. 
Where Selim contrived to find all the good things, and 

^25 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



how Youssouf worked them up into joys for ever, is a 
mystery. Perhaps appetite is the cook"s best ahy. The 
Nile is the father of appetite, and also the father of all 
good things demanded by appetite. The bath-water 
itself is cold, and perhaps a trifle too " rich for the 
ablutor's purpose. The Arabs bathe in the river ; but 
Europeans have a creepy recollection of strange stories 
of crocodiles : and although those monsters are now 
never (or hardly ever) met with beloAv Aswan, we pre- 
ferred to tub on board. 

The crew and the staft^ of the Xitocris were cheerful, 
amiable fellows, and not only their dress but their names 
recalled those wonderful stories of Sheherazade which so 
bewitched the Sultan — ]\Iahmood and ]vlustafa, and 
Youssouf and ]\Iasoud and Ali. The Com. persisted 
in addressing the last-named as Voozong, which always 
made Cassius laugh : though none of us could ever see 
the reason of it. A^oozong is certainly neither Arabic 
nor Turkish. ^Nlost of the crew were half-bloods, and 
some of them nearly black. The pilot, a dusky young 
fellow of about a hundred, sat all day long plying his 
long pole down in the bows : for you never know, in this 
shifiy river, when you may run on a sandbank, even 
though you draw but a foot or two of water. When you 
do strand, you may be in for a night of it : and twice we 
stuck for a matter of six or eight hours. On these occa- 
sions the Arabs drop overboard and wade about, up to 
their middles in water ; and sometimes they have to send 
ashore for a score or so of hands to help to get the boat 
off again. It was therefore not without a smile that we 
read in the Moriiing Post one day : " The Maria is a 
fine new vessel of 815 tons. She will, according to 

126 



The Pyramid Builders 

present arrangements, visit a number of ports on the 
African side of the Mediterranean, and then proceed up 
the Nile as far as the Second or perhaps the Third 
Cataract." The idea of a big yacht proceeding up the 
Nile as far as the Second or perhaps the Third Cataract 
is both original and suggestive. Between Aswan and 
Philse the cruise would be distinctly exhilarating. 

It is a pity that Mena's name should so strongly 
resemble that of Menu, the son of Brahma, and also that 
of the great mythical law-giver of Crete, Minos, and also 
the word Man : because the resemblance has led many 
learned philologists and sceptics to maintain that the 
name simply means the Measurer, which also they say 
is the meaning of the Moon. 

" Moon,'' writes Professor Max Miiller, is a very old 

word. It was Mona in Anglo-Saxon In Gothic 

it is Mena. In Greek we find men for month, and mene 
for moon. In Latin we have the derivation mensis for 
month ; and in Sanskrit we find mas for moon and masa 
for month. This mas in Sanskrit is clearly derived from 
a root ma to measure." 

A ruler, or measurer^ it is said, would naturally be 
called Mena or Manu or Minos. To me it does not 
seem much to matter whether the gentleman's real name 
was Mena or not. Let it be his nickname ; still, there 
he was. He sailed or rowed down the river, and dis- 
covered a place which if the Nile could be diverted 
would make a capital site for a city. He therefore 
diverted the Nile and built the city, which he called 
Men-nefer the beautiful home"). The Arabs call it 
Menuf, and we call it Memphis. That is about all we 
know of Mena. 

127 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Don't you suppose,"' the Warrior suggested with 
diffidence, " that perhaps he also built the Mena Hotel 
at Gizeh ? 

Concerning the doings of his successors we are left in 
darkness. One of them is said to have written a book 
on anatomy. His name is Teta on the tablets, but I 
am quite prepared to hear that Teta simply means "The 
Doctor," or something of that kind. 

Then Hesep-ti wrote Chapter 64 of "The Book of the 
Dead/" a somewhat lugubrious performance, worse than 
Burton's "Anatomy of Melancholy."' For four hundred 
years we hear little ; but in the reign of Ba-en-neter, the 
Nile for some reason or other ceased for eleven days to 
run water, and supplied honey instead. That this 
incident escaped the notice of contemporary and sub- 
sequent chroniclers for forty-four centuries is of little 
importance, when we reflect that we have it on the 
authority of no less a personage than John of x-lntioch. 
Surely he who knew more of the mystery of the two 
natures in the days of Theodosius than any man alive 
does at the present day could not easily be mistaken on 
so simple a matter as whether water or honey flowed 
between the banks of the Nile in the days of Ba-en- 
neter. 

Sailing down the stream of history, we come to what 
Manetho called the fourth dynasty — I know not why. 
Of Sneferu, of Chufu, of Cha-ef-Ra, and of ]\Ien-kau-Ra, 
there still exist monuments which require no testimonials 
from either John of Antioch nor his dearest foe. Saint 
Cyril, tlie murderer of Hypatia. The last three kings 
are better known as Cheops, Chephren, and Mycerinus. 
Little wooden statuettes of this period are shown at the 

128 



The Pyramid Builders 

Gizeh Museum, which bear so strong a resemblance in 
feature to the modern peasants of Eastern France 

that However, not the boldest of sceptics will 

pretend that the three pyramids of Gizeh are the work 
of men like Blind Jack of Knaresborough. Older than 




THE OLDEST BUILDING IX THE WORLD 



any — perhaps the very oldest building still standing on 
the earth — is the Step Pyramid at Sakkarah. Sakkarah 
was the great necropolis, or burial-ground, of Memphis. 
The Step Pyramid, which we did not climb, is said to 
have been built by Ata, the third king after Mena. It is 
built in six steps, and is not square based, but oblong. 
It is not correctly oriented, from which fact we may 
some day know more of its precise age. For it is true 

129 I 



1 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



that buildings which faced due east thousands of years 
ago no longer do so. This is variously accounted for by 
astronomers and others, but the true explanation, in the 
opinion of the present writer, is that the mass or substance 
of the earth is continuously and spirally shifting its position 
with respect to its astronomical axis ; so that the particular 
acre of grour.d which now lies at the Xorth Pule may at 
some remote period have lain at the Equator. This theory 
accounts for several apparently inexplicable phenomena : 
such as the Glacial Period, which never could have been 
universal : such as the direction of the mountain chains 
in the Eastern and AA'e.^tern hemispheres, and such as 
the false orientation of the Egyptian pyramids. 

Be this as it may, we went ashore at a liitle village 
called Bedrashin, where the sheikh promptly provided us 
with asses for our expedition. These donkies all have 
names, with which their dr".vers are anxious to make the 
riders familiar. One was caUed Hermonthis, another 
Telephone, another Lovely- sweet. Jus's donkey at 
Gizeh rejoiced in the peculiar name of So-and-so. 

After riding through another small Arab village we 
came upon a colossal recumbent statue of Rameses the 
Great. It was for years buried in sand, and when 
discovered, some seventy years ago, the finders gene- 
rously presented it to the British ^luseum. But seeing 
that it was not theirs to present, and that it was too 
heavy for the Aluseum to take away, it lies there still. 
This great king appears to have been no less than forty- 
two feet high, which is tall even for a Pharaoh. But 
I am quite prepared to believe it : for by the side of 
another statue of the same monarch at Karnak stands 
his wife, the Queen, and she does not quite reach up to 

130 



The Pyramid Builders 

his kneecap. We were glad to find engraved on the 
colossal statue his real prenomen — what we should call 
his Christian name — for it is always pleasant to speak of 




XIXETY YEARS IX THE DESERT 



people by their right names, and now we always speak of 
Rameses as Rausrmatsetepenra. There is more local 
colour about it ; and besides, it conveys its own meaning, 
as all old Egyptian names do. Somebody has fitted up a 
httle wooden bridge right across the chest of Ra ra, 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



to enable visitors to have a good look at his handsome 
face. And it is extremely handsome — so handsome as 
almost to damp the ardour of those who believe in the 
perfectibihty of the human race by natural selection. 
We must alter our system of selection if we wish to make 
any rapid progress. It is said that Captain Dreyfus 
would not have fared much better under this king than 
under the French Government of Liber te, egalite, et 
fraternite ! Personally I have lost interest in these three 
" e's.^' Give me liberty, equality, and fraternity instead. 
In outward appearance they look much alike, but in 
inward essence, Holy Humanity 1 what a difference ! 
. . . . We did not find much evidence of the anti- 
Semitic proclivities of Rameses. A few Hebrew captives 
march along the painted walls of the tombs and temples, 
together with other prisoners of war — nothing more, I 
believe they had been bundled out by Aahmes three 
centuries before. If any remaint^d in the days of Seti 
and his glorious successors it must have been from 
choice, and not from coercion, 

Rameses, beloved of Amen," the Architect King ! 
how grandly he reposes there under his native palms, 
like a warrior taking his rest ; and how unlike him as 
he is.' — yes, as he is; for we saw him, met him in the 
flesh, touched him, at Gizeh. There he lies, and near 
him, also in their cofiins, lie his father Seti and his son 
Rameses III. I have experienced nothing more awe- 
inspiring than the spectacle of these three great rulers 
of Egypt lying there side by side, oblivious of the three 
thousand years that have rolled over their heads since 
they built the temples that were to live for. ever. 



132 



The Pyramid Builders 

" His palms are folded on his breast, 
There is no other thing expressed 
But long disquiet merged in rest. 
His lips are very mild and meek ; 
Tho' one should smite him on the cheek 
And on the mouth, he will not speak. 
High up the vapours fold and swim, 
About him broods the twilight dim ; 
The place he knew forgetteth him." 

There in Gizeh, clothed in mummied flesh, Rameses 
is imposing ; but here in Memphis, carved in hard lime- 
stone, he is glorious. Why cannot some wealthy 
antiquarian raise up this fallen statue ? 

After roaming around the Pyramids of Unas, of Teta, 
and of Pepi, we proceeded to the Serapeum — the vaults 
of the Sacred Bulls. This huge burial-place is the most 
wonderful monument of an extinct religion in the world. 
Here lie the sacred bulls, whose worship seems to have 
been introduced into Egypt by the Semitic Hyksos, and 
to have become permanently engrafted upon the older 
ancestor-worship. Serapis is a contraction of Osiris- 
Apis. " Apis," says Herodotus, " is a black calf with a 
square white spot on its forehead." His mother was an 
ordinary cow upon which lightning descended from 
heaven, whereupon she bore Apis. This extraordinary 
incarnation of the divine element (Osiris) in the mortal 
nature (Apis) was probably held to be symbolic of 
human nature with its spiritual and carnal element. 
The calf grew up and was worshipped, and. then in obe- 
dience to the laws of its mortal nature it aged and either 
died or was killed by the priests. 

We saw four and twenty huge granite sarcophagi lying 
on each side of a long subterranean gallery. They were 

133 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



discovered by the greatest of all Egyptologists, M.Mariette, 
in 1850, and with them were discovered the dates of the 
bulls buried in them. The slabs, or stelae, on which 
these particulars are inscribed give also the names 
of the kings reigning at the time, and so furnish us 




THE TRIUMPH OF ^HXD OVER MATTER 



with invaluable historical material. One is forcibly 
reminded by this strange worship of other similar 
traditions. Once upon a time i\Iinos of Crete prayed 
Posseidon that a bull might come up out of the sea, 
in order that he might offer him up as a burnt offering, 
The animal appeared, but Alinos was so struck with his 
beauty that he spared him, and offered up another bull 
instead. Infuriated at this breach of faith, Posseidon 

134 



The Pyramid Builders 



inspired Pasiphae, the wife of Minos, with a passion for 
the bull. The Minotaur, a monster with the body of a 
man and the head of an ox, is none other than Baal, the 
Phoenician form of Apis. The sphinxes of Egypt have 
the body of a lower animal and (usually) a human head. 
Again, we recall the following : " The people gathered 
themselves together unto Aaron and said unto him, 
Up, make us gods which shall go before us . . . and 
Aaron said. Break off the golden rings which are in the 
ears of your wives and of your sons and of your daughters 
and bring them unto me. And all the people brake off 
the golden rings which were in their ears, and brought 
them unto Aaron. And he received it at their hand, 
and fashioned it with a graving tool, and made it a 
molten calf ; and they say. These be thy gods, O Israel, 
which brought thee up out of the land of Egypt. And 
:\\hen Aaron saw this, he built an altar before it." No 
sooner had Moses (the Egyptian priest and philosopher) 
turned his back, than the people relapsed into their old 
worship of Apis, or Baal, or Moloch, the ox-god. All 
throughout their history we find them backsliding in this 
fashion. It is to the educated classes of the superior 
Egyptian race — to men like Amen-hetep IV. and Moses 
— that we must look for the first strivings towards a pure 
form of monotheism. It is said that the Druses to this 
day worship the image of a calf And what is more 
interesting in this connection is that the Knights Templars 
were themselves charged with the offence by PhiHp the 
Fair and by the Pope himself as late as the fourteenth 
century, showing the immense vitality of this weird 
Semitic creed. 

After exploring the Serapeum and \'isiling the shanty 

135 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



of its eminent discoverer, we sat down on the sand and 
devoured sundry good things provided by the foresight 
of Sclim_. who wdl kncvr that man cannot live on hiero- 
glyphics alone. And he was right, for judge of our 
astonishment when the Com. himself arose, as we sup- 
posed to urge us on to the pursuit of knowledge in the 
Tomb of Thi, and thus addressed us : ''Well. I vote we 
skip Thi and make a bee-line for the boat." Clare fell 
down ; Selim's eyes filled with tears ; Jus looked grave : 
he was not prepared for such levity from such a quarter. 
But the sun was already within shouting distance of the 
horizon, and the beautiful winding road through the 
inundations is not very safe riding in the dark : and the 
others thought that — no matter, we all rode back to the 
Nile. The Literary Failure, anxious to reach the da- 
habieh by daylight, galloped on ahead, to the great grief 
of Telephone, who was unused to a weight of fourteen, 
stone, and consequently came a fearful cropper about a 
mile from her destination. Fortunitely, Jus's cork hat 
received the brunt of the shock, and so preserved for 
further use the valuable cranium within. 

The ride from Bedrashin round Memphis and Sakkarah 
is typically African — African at its best. It is uke riding 
through a hothouse of exotics reaching for miles. But 
the air, though quite as hot, is fresh and exhilarating. 
By skipping Thi " we missed all the beau'dful paintings 
and scu'ptures in his ^lastaba, as the Arabs call these 
queer long tombs : but at the Gizeh ]\Iuseum we saw 
many similar works in a far better light. They represent 
all the crafts and industries over which the good man 
presided in his day — that is to say, about fifty-four cen- 
turies ago. The bas-reliefs of this period are most lively 

136 



The Pyramid Builders 

and entertaining. They depict the everyday life of the 
people : boatmen squabbling, women kneading dough, 
sheep crossing the river, bulls going to the butchers, 
men bottling wine, corn-grinding, and even a monkey 
biting a man's leg. One of the stelae actually depicts 




THE GREAT " CITY " OF MEMPHIS ! 



the process of glass-blowing. It seems to date back to 
the fifth dynasty. This eiTectually disposes of the notion 
that the Egyptians borrowed that art from the Tyrians. 
There is a little statue of a dwarf named Khnum-hetep. 
Dwarfs appear to have been fairly common in old times. 
The Queen of Punt is one of the ugUest httle women of 
history. Punt is where the spices come from (not the 
Brazil nuts), and it is now caled Somali-land. It com- 

137 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



prised the southern coasts of the Red Sea, and may be 
the Put mentioned as one of the sons of Ham. I saw 
a number of SomaH braves who came over to the Crystal 
Palace three years ago, and they were not unlike the 
warriors of the Lady of Punt represented in the 
tombs. 

An excellent bit of sculpture is a statute of King 
Chephren in green stone. He has a roll of papyrus in 
his hand, which shows that he could not only build, but 
also read and probably write. The hawk above his head 
with wings outstretched is his crest, his surname, and his 
god. You remember what I said in Malta about heraldry. 
Papyrus reminds us that we are indebted to the early 
Egyptians not only for glass but for paper. The old 
paper which they invented held the market till quite 
recently. Indeed, the very oldest modern or cotton-, 
paper document extant is dated 1050 a.d., or only 
sixteen years before the Norman Conquest of England. 
Before that the papyrus of Egypt was used. It consisted 
of the stalk of a. plant which was cultivated in that 
country, and which was the emblem of one of its two 
divisions : the other division being represented by the 
lotus. These stalks were ripped into strips and plaited 
together like a cane-bottomed chair, but more closely, 
and then squeezed till they presented a smooth surface. 
We have two words in our language both derived from 
papyrus, but otherwise in appearance unlike. One of 
these is paper,'" the other is "bible." The Greeks turned 
the Egyptian ''p"'into ''b," and the ''r"' into '"l."" Itwas just 
like them. You would have done the same if you had 
been a Greek, in obedience to a law laid down by a rascally 
German who lived centuries later, and who was known 

138 



The Pyramid Builders 



as Grimm. Hence they called papyrus," " byblos " or 
^'biblos"; from which we get ''bible," The Book. 

Another good example of the way in which a word 
gets mangled in various ways according to the route it 
adopts in making its way to our shores is the sad story 
of the Sanskrit gharma. This unfortunate word has 
come to us through four or more channels : and it now 
appears among us as dry.^ warm^ fervid^ and thermic^ 
perhaps torrid and feverish may be added to the list. 

It must be admitted that the antiquarian treasures of 
Egypt are bewildering ; and any attempts to build up, by 
their aid alone, a clear conception of the ancient 
Egyptian religion is likely to end in discomfiture. Long 
before historical times, their original ancestor-worship, 
the vestiges of which are everywhere conspicuous, had 
been so overladen with the high-sounding verbiage of 
adulation that it was difficult to distinguish between 
truth and hyperbole ; between fact and myth. Osiris, 
the first ancestor, gradually assumes all the titles and 
attributes which humanity can invent and bestow, and is 
finally confounded by his worshippers with Ra, the Sun- 
god, the Giver of Life and the Creator of All Things. 
In some of its minor developments the worship of the 
people may be described as the religion of the charnel- 
house. The beetle, the bat, and the earthworm, all 
figure as divinities to be propitiated. Chepera has a 
beetle for a head ; and most of the mummies of the great 
are found with artificial beetles or scarabs on their breasts. 

The final evolution of the mixed ancestor-worship and 
nature-symbolism into pure Monotheism, with the Sun 
as the simple emblem of perfection and eternity, seems 
first to have been formulated as a distinct creed by 

^39 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Amen-hetep IV., about the year 1450 b.c. For it can 
hardly be said that the religious system carried away by 
the Hyksos was Monotheistic. Among a crowd of in- 
ferior deities, Jehovah was the greatest, but not the only 
god. Amen-hetep was the first of whom we know to 
conceive the idea of One God, the Creator and Bene- 
ficent Ruler of the world, who was under no necessity to 
do battle with other gods, nor to express jealousy of 
them. 

That good Mahommedan ruler of India, Akbar, the 
contemporary of our Queen Elizabeth, seems to have 
endeavoured to purge Mahommedanism of its modern 
corruptions, and to reduce it to the form of pure Mono- 
theism, by precisely the same cautious compromise as 
that adopted by Amen-hetep — namely, by denouncing all 
forms of idolatry except the worship of the sun's disc. 
This step having been accomplished, he then en- 
deavoured to convince his people that even the sun 
itself must be worshipped only as a symbol of God, and 
not as itself divine. Let me cite Akbar's own words : 
^'It is evident that for remembering and praising God 
no visible medium is at all requisite ; but if it is impos- 
sible for some to adore God without any visible medium, 
then the most proper objects on which to fix the view are 
the sun and planets.'' 

The three pyramids of Gizeh are situated within a 
pleasant drive of Cairo. After crossing the Nile bridge, 
and passing the palace museum on the right, we pre- 
sently found ourselves in the long acacia avenue specially 
planted by Ismail for the reception of the Empress 
Eugenie. On each side of it were boundless tracts of 
water (it was November) dotted over with small villages 

140 



The Pyramid Builders 

or island homes. Here and there were seen peasants 
driving oxen and camels through the shallower fords. 
Finally we emerge at the foot of the great Pyramid of 
Cheops, the grandest specimen of brute- force architecture 
in the world. 




AN ISLAND HOME 



Some members of our party straightway ascended to 
the top to enjoy the vast view. Others guessed the 
view, and saved their breath to cool their porridge. By 
so doing they evinced a sad lack of the traveller's 
enthusiasm and " go," which, though deplorable, must 
nevertheless be recorded against them. The climb is not 
difficult to those with good heads," especially as a 
couple of nimble Arabs insist on pushing the climber up 
with indecorous haste. 

141 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Eight centuries ago the ascent \yas weU-nigh impracti- 
cable. The sides were then smooth and carved with 
inscriptions : and the worst chaige that can be brought 
against the great Saladin is that he carried off the casing- 
stones to build his citadel at Cairo. One idiot about the 
same time did his best to destroy the third pyramid : but 
it was too much for him, and he gave it up after strip- 
ping one of the sides. 

Dr. Wallace Budge, in his excellent ''Notes for Travel- 
lers on the Nile," says — perhaps a little dogmatically — 
It is well to state at once that the pyramids were tombs 
and nothing else. There is no evidence whatever to 
show that they were built for the purposes of astronomical 
observations ; and the theory that the Great Pyramid was 
built to serve as a standard of measurement is ingenious 
but worthless."" 

That it is what is called a tt pyramid is admitted : that 
is to say. the ratio of its height to its perimeter at the 
base is exactly that of the radius to the circumference of 
a circle. That it measures exactly one thousand Egyptian 
yards (double-cubits) round its base is surely significant. 
This equals 1014.2 English yards. But that such cubit, 
however origmally ascertained, should be, as it is, pre- 
cisely one thousandth part of the ground traversed by 
the sunlight in one second in the plane of the ecliptic is 
either a stupendous coincidence or a fact which cannot 
be thrust aside with a shrug of the shoulders.* We 
require something stronger than ^^lariette's statement that 
pyramids are only found in cemeteries, to crush the 
astronomical theory of the pyramid utterly and for ever. 

^ I express it thus in order to show how the discovery of the 
earth's circumference was probably made. 

142 



The Pyramid Builders 

These measurements and the orientation of the huge pile 
seem altogether out of keeping with a mere mummy- 
chest ! 

" Oh, confound the pyramid cubit," said the Hon. 
Sec, ''here are the camels; let us go and have a look at 
the Sphinx." 

''What about the Pyramid of Chephren?" inquired 
the Com., "and the little one over there?" 

" Oh, they will keep," replied Len : " they can't get 
away. We have had enough pyramid for one day. And 
besides, I have snapped the lot while you have been 
talking all this fustian about cubits." 

So we mounted our camels and lurched forward to the 
Sphinx. On all sides we were thronged by Arabs, gesti- 
culating and protesting their individual merits as show- 
men. One of them kept on repeating, " I am your daisy, 
I am your daisy ; " and it was not until he had been 
allowed to sing " Daisy Bell " twice through that he could 
be silenced. And even then not without bakshish. 

Two others were burning to show us how fast they 
could mount to the summit of the pyramid and back. 
This they accomplished in about eight minutes — a most 
creditable performance. But the feat of the day was 
performed by a tall athletic fellow who actually climbed 
up the side of the Sphinx and stood on the top of its 
head. He seemed for the greater part of the ascent to 
be clinging on with his eyelids. He will come to grief 
one of these days. 

The Sphinx is like the hundreds of other sphinxes in 
which Egypt abounds, except as to size. Its body is 
fifty yards — that is one hundred cubits long. And even 
as it crouches, its head reaches up to a height of about 

143 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



fifty cubits. The width of its face may have been about 
ten cubits, but it has been badly battered about. It is 
carved out of the sohd rock ! When was the colossal 
work effected ? And by whom ? The old name for it 
was Hu. And that/" says the Com, "is the question 




SIXGIXG -DAISY BELL" 



men have been asking ever since." All we can say for 
certain is that it is older than any of the three pyramids 
of Gizeh. In their day it was already venerable and 
buried in the sand. Thothmes the Fourth dreamt that 
the Rising Sun (Harmachis) appeared to him, and offered 
to give him the throne of all Egypt if he would clear 
away the sand and put the Sphinx in a condition of 
thorough repair. This he did, and painted its face red, 

144 



The Pyramid Builders 



a work which had previously been carried out by Chephren. 
Harmachis was as good as his word. Chephren and his 
royal brother Cheops are gone, and Thothmes is gone, 
no one knows whither ; Mycerinus sleeps ignobly in a 
glass case in the British Museum ; but the Sphinx with 




HU 



impassive gaze watches the ages glide by, and will go on 
watching for millenniums to come. 

A learned theological friend tells me that I have 
expressed myself badly above. Instead of saying 

Thothmes dreamt that Harmachis appeared to him," 
I ought to have said : " Harmachis appeared to Thothmes 
in a dream " — which is, he tells me^ a very different thing. 

145 K 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



So it is ; but I think I have my learned friend this time. 
For the stela which records the event distinctly states 
that it was while Thothmes was enjoying an after-dinner 
siesta that Harmachis appeared to him. Now it is not 
probable that Thothmes dined before daybreak ; and it 
is impossible that the Rising Sun could actually have 
peeped in after a dinner taken at a rational hour. 
Whereas it is quite reasonable to suppose that the king 
dreamt he saw and heard the Rising Sun at any hour of 
the day or night. This gloss may throw Hght on similar 
narratives. 

The tombs, or mastabas, of the great, of men like the 
skipped " Thi, show what careful precautions the 
Egyptians took against the disturbance of the revered 
dead. The corpses were lowered down into a pit of 
prodigious depth : not six or eight feet deep, hke our 
graves, but sixty or eighty feet. From the bottom of the 
pit proceeds a passage into the sarcophagus chamber, 
where the embalmed body was deposited : after which 
the pit was filled up with earth. Above stood the 
sacrificial chamber for the worship of the deceased, the 
walls of which were inscribed with records of his good 
works. 

These pits recall the strange experience of Sindbad the 
Sailor in the country of cocoa-nuts and pepper, where 
there were fair people like himself. These eight-century- 
old Arabian stories are clearly based on travellers' tales 
containing a substratum of truth. "They put on the 
corpse/"' he says, " her richest apparel, as if it had been 
her wedding-day, and dressed her with all her jewels ; 
then they put ht:^r into an open coffin, and, lifting it up, 
began their march to the place of burial. The husband 

146 



The Pyramid Builders 



walked at the head of the company, and followed the 
corpse. They went up to a high mountain, and, when 
they came thither, removed a great stone which covered 
the mouth of a very deep pit, and let down the corpse 
with all its apparel and jewels." He says the pit might 




CHILDREN OF THE 200TH GENERATION 



be some tifty fathoms in depth, and that they also 
lowered a vessel full of water, and seven loaves. 

After sleeping under the lee of Bedrashin we steamed 
up the river as soon as daylight appeared. We put in 
at Wasta in the hope of finding letters from home. 
Wasta is the railway junction for the Fayyum, or Phiom, 
an immense district of eight hundred and fifty square 
miles reclaimed from the desert by Amen-emhat HI., 

147 



-i 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



who cut a passage through the hills for a branch of the 
Nile to flow through. These Pharaohs were mighty 
engineers. " The post is not very regular/' said Selim. 
" That's the Wasta vit/' replied the Com. Some of us 
looked at the river, others at the sky. The Hon. Sec. 
peered into his camera. After a silence of some minutes 
the Rich Banker exclaimed. " Hoav blue the sky is." 
Every one admitted it : even the Com., who declared he 
had never seen the sky so blue ; and the conversation 
got on the lines again, and we all inwardly thanked the 
Banker. This was the worst crisis of its kind through 
which we passed, except once, on the yacht in the Archi- 
pelago : but that was long afterwards, and I mention it 
he^e in order to get it off my mind. We had just 
decided to steer straight from Constantinople to the 
Pirasus. instead of putting in at A^olo, as we had 
originally intended. The Com. was heard to mutter, S/c 
jiibeo^ when something providential happened ; and when 
he emerged from beneath a haystack of maps, guide- 
books, dictionaries, and Bradshaws, under which he seems 
to have slipped, he had forgotten what he was about to 
observe. We were all thankful for that. AVhere the 
Com. had caught this most dangerous and painful of 
complaints we did not discover for some time. It 
appears, however, that according to Ermann, the Egyp- 
tian hieroglyphics bristle with this species of wit, and it 
is probably to a too prolonged study of the temple 
writings that the Com.'s affliction must be attributed. 
Passing the Bird Mountain and Minyeh, we arrived at 
Beni-hasan, where we debarked. 



148 



CHAPTER VIII 



TEMPLE AND TOMB 

The history of Egypt is variously divided into periods, 
empires, and dynasiies. In the absence of Manetho's 
History, which was probably destroyed in the fire at 
Alexandria when Julius Caesar took the place, the division 
into dynasties is meaningless. For the traveller the best 
division would seem to be the following : 

I. From the earliest days to the reign of Nitocris 
(^'Rosy Belle"). This may be called the Pyramid 
Age, and it is best studied from Memphis, the 
capital from which Egypt was ruled. The most 
famous names of this period are Mena, Cheops, 
Chephren Menkau-ra, Unas, Teta, and Nitocris. 

II. When the curtain rises, after a blank interval 
of six centuries, we find the Amenemhats and Usert- 
sens ruling from Thebes. This period of about 
three centuries (2500 to 2200) is best studied at 
Beni-hasan. The last king of the Egyptian line is 
then overthrown by the Semitic Hykscs, or Shep- 
herd Kings, as they are called, who dominate the 
country for four or five centuries. 

III. The third period extends from the reign of 
Aahmes (who drove the Semites northwards and 

149 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



restored Egyptian supremacy) to the Persian Con- 
quest by Cambyses (1700 to 528). The great 
names of this period include the four Thothmes, 
Hatshepset, the four Amen-heteps, the Ramesids 
Nekau, and the Psemtheks. This period should be 
studied from Thebes. 

IV. The Persian period, from 528 to 335 B.C. 

V. The Macedonian period, from 335 to 30 B.C. 

VI. The Roman-Greek period, from 30 b.c. to 
638 A.D. 

VII. The Arabian period, from 638 to 151 7. 

VIII. The Turkish period, from 15 17 to 1882. 

IX. The Enghsh period (the shortest so far), since 
1882. 

Thus the history of Egypt consists of nine periods, of 
which the first three only can be regarded as falling 
within the province of Egyptian history proper. 

However, all this is wofully dry — in fact, it is merely 
a sort of precis cribbed from the notes of the 'Varsity 
^lan, who should not have left them lying about in the 
saloon. 

At present we are at Beni-hasan, seated on donkeys. 
On our right, at a slight elevation, are the ruins of a 
fairly modern village, which was utterly destroyed in the 
present century by its humane ruler, Ibrahim Pasha, on 
the ground that its inhabitants were thieves. There are 
plenty of thieves in Putney, in fair Kintbury of Berk- 
shire, in lovely Lynton, in far Tamworth, and even in the 
saintly purlieus of Llanwyddlanellipontyfechan. But 
we should be surprised, and perhaps a little hurt, 
if Queen Victoria came at the head of a British army 
and razed them all to the ground. They manage (or 



Temple and Tomb 



managed) these things better in Egypt. After a short 
donkey ride we reached the Cave of Sechet, the divine 
lioness. Pedants and guide-books persist in calhng it 




IBRAHIM PASHA 

Speos Artemidos. But as this simply means the Cave of 
Artemis, and since the Greeks somehow confounded 
Sechet with Artemis, the name is likely to lead to 
confusion. The cave dates back to the time of 
Thothmes III., who, it will be remembered, put to 
death the great Queen Hatshepset. 

151 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

The tomb' of Ameni is extremely interesting, furnish- 
ing us with a fair sample of early Egyptian morals. 
Ameni lived in the reign of Usertsen 1. It is not neces- 
sary to believe that he actually said all that is put into 
his mouth on the inscriptions which adorn his tomb. 




PASTORAL SCEXE AT EEXI-HASAX 



This may be but a tribute of respect written after his 
death by his bereaved relatives. Xor is it necessary, to 
believe that it is true. For our purpose, as students of 
morality, it is enough that Ameni or his contemporaries 
had in their minds an ideal of virtue such as is here set 
forth. Amongst other things, Ameni is recorded as 
saying, I have done all that I have said. I am a 
gracious and a compassionate man, and a ruler who 



Temple and Tomb 

loves his people." Lying, therefore, was regarded as 
bad ; and a humane ruler was esteemed. 

I have given to the overseers of the temples of the 
gods three thousand bulls wdth their cows." Generosity 
to the priests was clearly appreciated — especially by the 
priests. But the following is really tender and beautiful : 

I have never made a child grieve; I have never 
robbed the widow ; I have never repulsed the labourer ; 
. . . there was never a person miserable in my time ; no 
one went hungry during my rule ; I made no distinction 
between the great and the little in all that I gave." 

Ameni's ideal, whether he acted up to it or not, is 
clearly of a high order, and compares favourably even 
with the spirit of, say, Nestorius, bishop of Constanti- 
nople, who, preaching before the devout Emperor Theo- 
dosius, thus expounds his ideal of Christian charity : 

Give me, O Caesar, the earth purged of heretics, and 
I will give you in exchange the kingdom of heaven. 
Exterminate with me the heretics, and with you I will 
exterminate the Persians." It would seem that moraHty 
did not make great strides in the three thousand years 
that elapsed between Ameni and Nestorius. 

But there is one species of vice discernible in these 
tombs which Mr. Ruskin would deeply deplore, and 
which fills me with shame. Shams (as well as armorial 
bearings) must look for their originals, it would seem, in 
the temples and tombs of the great dead in Beni-hasan. 
The columns and walls of several are made of plaster so 
coloured as exactly to resemble red granite. False- 
hoods in stones ! " Alas ! so old. 

Another tomb, that of Chnemu-hetep, contains a 
famous picture on one of its walls, representing thirty- 

153 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



seven Hebrews, bringing presents and doing homage to 
Chnemu-hetep, in the reign of Usertsen II. These 
foreigners wear beards and carry bows and arrows. It is 
but natural that many persons should regard the painting 
as a contemporary record of the arrival of Joseph and 
his brethren in the land of the Pharaohs. It would, 
however, serve equally well for the visit of Abraham and 
his retinue. That it actually represents one of the 
earliest appearances on the scene of a race w^hich two 
hundred years later made themselves so extremely objec- 
tionable to the Egyptians is probably the truth. Whence 
these strange people came is one of the most difficult 
problems the ethnographer has to solve. I propose to 
return to the subject when we reach Jerusalem. 

As works of art, these early pictures are not easy to 
place. Some say they are worthy of a fourth- form school- 
boy. And their greatest admirers must admit that the 
perspective is ridiculous, the colouring flat, and the com- 
position childish. At the same time, there is great truth 
of detail, and the general effect is stately and powerful. 
For mural decoration their conventionality gives strength 
rather than weakness ; and as such they may lay just 
claim to our regard as w^orks of high art. Their great 
antiquity of course enhances their sombre though crude 
grandeur. 

We were accompanied throughout our pilgrimage 
among the tombs by a crowd of pretty little Arab girls, 
who had already learnt the magic power of the word 
bakshish. Visitors will also find a kind of musician very 
attentive to them if he has not been killed in the interim. 
He performs on an old gun-barrel, which he has con- 
verted into a flute, and upon which, after much practice, 

IS4 



Temple and Tomb 

he has succeeded in playing what he doubtless regards 
as a tune. And for all I know it may be one. The 
Banker took it down in black and white, and reproduced 




THE COMPOSER 

it on the piano on deck. How often he would have 
soothed our savage breasts withal I cannot tell, for 
somehow the piano fell over, and he and the Warrior 
were afterwards extricated from the wreckage. 

A voyage of three hours brought us to Haggi-Kandil, 
155 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

near the ruins of Chut-aten (" splendour of the sun"), a 
city built by Amen-hetep IV., the great Monotheist, 
when his so-called heresy had created such a hubbub 
that he found it expedient to found for himself a new 
city wherein to dwell in peace with his Syrian mother Ti, 
and his wife and daughters. But priestcraft was too 
strong for the new cult, and after a stubborn resistance 
it succumbed to the old worship of Amen. 

"If you please, my lord," said Sehm, that evening at 
dinner-time, " the crew wish to give you a concert on 
deck to-night." 

" The deuce they do ! " said the Com. in some con- 
sternation : "give them a sheep instead." 

" But, my lord," urged Selim, " you have given them 
one sheep last Thursday.'' 

" Then give them another ; give them two," protested 
the Com., " but for heaven's sake do not let them 
sing." 

"Oh, you can't do that," broke in Clare : "the poor 
fel'ows will be awfully disappointed." 

"Let them be disappointed," snarled the Warrior. 
" Are we to sit and listen to their infernal caterwauhng 
for fear of offending a pack of silly niggers ? " 

"They are not niggers," said Clare with some heat: 
" they are Arabs with feelings li':e ourselves." 

"' Ally-zo, Ally-zo," droned the Warrior, in imitation 
of the Arab chorus; "did any one ever hear such 
drivel ? " 

However, the end of it was that we all went and sat 
out that concert. It developed into a sort of musical 
drama with much horse-play ; scene, a barber's shop. 
The Arabs have many virtues, but as musicians it is a 

156 



Temple and Tomb 

neck-and-neck race between thetn and the cats on the 
wall. 

Unfortunately for you, dear reader, we survived it, or 
you would not now be yawning over this book. 

In this part of Egypt the crocodile was once 




THE MAN AT THE WHEEL 



worshipped, and about three hours south of Chut- 
aten there are some crocodile mummy-pits. But 
religions vary with locality, and a couple of hundred 
miles further south the ancient inhabitants of Tentyra, 
which is opposite Qeneh, detested the crocodile, and 
actually carried their hatred to such a pitch as to make 
war on its devotees. So far from taking sides with its 
worshippers, the crocodile, according to Strabo, ate 

157 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



them, while it respected its haters of Tentyra, and 
permitted them to swim about in the river without 
molestation. 

We spent the day at Asyut. Here Anubis was 
worshipped. " Hail, Anubis of the Tomb, Great 
God 1 we read in the '"The Book of the Dead.'"' This 
god is usually called the jackal-headed, but the Greeks 
took it for a wolf and called Asyut Lycopohs."" In 
my opinion it resembles neither one nor the other, but 
the vampire bat. 

" In that day," writes the prophet Isaiah, shall they 
cast away their idols to the moles and to the bats.'" Our 
bats are harmless little creatures enough ; but the temate, 
or Oriental bat, the Vesfei'tilio vampyriis. is a formidable 
brute, quite able and willing to suck a man to death 
while he sleeps. Says Gaptain Stedman, a truthful and 
observant traveller : Knowing by instinct that the 
person they intend to attack is in a sound slumber, 
they generally alight near the feet and bite a piece out 
of the top of the great toe, so very small, indeed, that the 
head of a pin could scarcely be received into the wound, 
which is consequently not painful : yet through this 
orifice he continues to suck the blood, and the sufferer 
has often been known to sleep from time to eternity." 
He himself lost twelve or fourteen ounces of blood before 
he discovered what was going on. 

Here is a significant passage from Mr. Herbert 
Spencer's Principles of Sociology '' on the origin of 
animal worship : That a creature found in the place 
of the dead ... is assumed to belong in some way to 
the dead need no longer be entertained (merely) as an 
hypothesis. That among the possible relations between 

158 



Temple and Tomb 

the tomb-haunting animal and the deceased person 
metamorphosis will be supposed by early peoples is 
clear. And that hence results the identification of 
owls and bats, and possibly scarabcei^ with souls, can 




MAHOMMEDAN CEMETERY 



no longer be doubted." It would take me too far afield 
to follow up this train of thought. 

I will, however, here notice Mr. Spencer's subtle 
observations on the worship of the lotus, which, as we 
have seen, is a symbol of Upper Egypt, as the papyrus 
is a symbol of Low^er Egypt. He says : " I do not 
believe any early usage ever arose through symbolisa- 
tion." And he expresses the opinion that lotus-worship 

159 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



arose in the same way as did soma-^yorship in the East— 
namely, through the toxic qualities of the plant. There 
is no doubt that the early Greeks believed themselves 
and were believed by others, to be inspired, when they 
were under the influence of those nervous stimulants 
which produce a state of bhssful indifference. Hence 
the worship of Bacchus. The tree in the Garden of 
Eden has been identified with this class of plant. 
Although the lotus has no intoxicating qualities, never- 
theless it has a sweet root ; and this, says ^Ir. Spencer, 
might be used, like beetroot, for the manufacture of 
sugar and of alcohol. This puts a rational and moral 
construction on the warning addressed to Adam not to 
eat of the fruit of the tree, instead of the usual one of 
mere caprice. That the substance of the holy books, 
papyrus, should also be worshipped by the masses will 
surprise no one who has observed the jealousy with 
which the mcdern Moslem keeps the Koran out of the 
hands of the unbeliever, as though touching the paper 
on which it is written could in any way injure the 
author. 

At Asyut, after exploring the bazaars and the old 
market-place, we entered the law courts and followed 
the trial of several causes. Outside I had found a little 
boy with a blue-black cross tattooed on his wrist. His 
companions laughed, and, pointing to the mark, said, 
" Christian 1 An Arab gentleman, a barrister in the 
court, to whom I mentioned the circumstance, explained 
that a great many of the inhabitants of Upper Egypt 
bear the mark. " Some years ago,'' he said, " there was 
a scare that the Russians and Abyssinians were about to 
organise a crusade, when they would kill all ]\Iahom- 

i6o 



Temple and Tomb 

medans, and spare only such Arabs as could prove they 
were Christians, Many Egyptians, therefore, adopted 
the precaution of tattooing their wrists in this fashion- 
not only Copts but Mohammedans." And then, to my 
surprise, he showed me a similar mark on his own wrist. 




ASYUT I\IARKET-PLACE 



How the scare arose I do not know; but the Yezids 
kill all Mahommedans who fall into their hands, sparing 
only the " Franks," which is their general name for 
Christians. 

The proceedings in the law courts were not unlike 
those of an English court of justice, except that the law 
appeared to be based on the Code Napoleon, with a 
substratum of Mahommedan law. Anything must be 

i6i L 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



better than unadulterated English law, if such a thing 
can be said to exist as an independent entity. My 
barrister friend was good enough to interpret for me as 
the trials proceeded. 

The disfigurement of the tombs of Asyut dates, says 
Dr. Wallis Budge, " from the time when the Christians 
took up their abode in them."'' At Ahmin we went 
ashore and visited the bazaars, where we bought some 
very tasteful wwen fabrics from the makers. As usual, 
the god Amsu (a form of Amen-Ra) of this place was 
mistaken by the Greeks for their Pan ; and the place is 
consequently called Panopolis. But all Greek names 
should be avoided in Egypt as far as possible. Even by 
the guides, the Semitic or Hyksos god. Set, is usually 
spoken of by the name of Typhon, to whom he bears 
no resemblance. After the expulsion of the Shepherd 
Kings, Set fell from his exalted position, and was subse- 
quently known as the God of Evil. Like Sebek, he 
sometimes figures as a crocodile; but he seems else- 
where to have appeared as a serpent. He has outHved 
most of the Egyptian deities. According to Plutarch, 
Set, the brother and equal of God (Osiris), inveigled him 
into a chest, and, fastening down the lid, flung him into 
the Nile. When Isis, the wife of Osiris, heard what 
had happened, she wandered about everywhere in search 
of the chest, which she eventually discovered in the sea 
near Byblos, whence she took it back with her to Egypt, 
and hid it in a secret place while she went to look for 
her son, Horus. During her absence, however. Set 
discovered the chest by the light of the moon, cut the 
body in fourteen pieces, and scattered them in different 
parts of the country. Then Isis made a paper boat in 

162 



Temple and Tomb 

which to search for the fragments of her beloved spouse. 
Whenever and wherever she found one she buried it, 
which accounts for the number of temples to Osiris. 




SHOPPING IX ASYUT 



Meantime Horus made war on Set, took him prisoner, 
and handed him over to the custody of his mother. And 
here is shown the fickleness of woman : for Isis loosed 
Set from his bonds and set him free. Horus was 
naturally so incensed against her that he knocked off 

163 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



her crown, and substituted for it a helmet in the shape 
of an ox's head. In the next war Set again got the 
worst of it — so we are told : but since Horus appears to 
have been himself cut in pieces, and Isis to have had 
her head off, it is ditt?icult to see where they scored over 
Set. As for Osiris, he re-appeared from the nether 
world, and took his seat on the throne of Egypt and of 
heaven. According to another version Horus did not 
knock his mother's crown off, but her head, and Thoth, 
the God of Justice, put it on again, after transforming it 
into the head of a cow. 

In this connection it is worthy of note that the sacred 
history of Swt;den commences with ''Once upon a time 
there was a big cow." The ox-god has long ago dis- 
appeared, except among the Druses, but Set still goes 
about, as the negro preacher said, "seeking whom he 
may devour somebody.''" It was not far from here, at a 
place now called Abu-tig, that the great battle between 
Set and Horus took place. 

We slept that night at Girgeh, to which I referred out 
of place intentionally, in order that my reader might 
begin his tour at the beginning of Time, which we could 
not. Girgeh, it will be remembered, is the modern 
name of This. After a very cursory view of Abtu, which 
the Greeks called (and which is still called) Abydos, 
from the resemblance of its name to that of their own 
Abydos, we proceeded to Qeneh : whence, after provid- 
ing ourselves with camels, we penetrated into the 
Arabian desert, to visit the Bedouins in their own 
homes. And then, crossing the Nile in a rowing boat, 
we visited the temple of Denderah (Tentyra). where the 
Hon. Sec. had the satisfaction of taking a photograph 

164 



Temple and Tomb 

of Cleopatra from a contemporary portrait. Although this 
temple is one of the most picturesque in Egypt, it hardly 
falls within the scope of the Egyptologist, having been 
built at a very late period — that is to say, about the time 
of the Roman invasion. 




BEDOUINS AT QEXEH 



Next day we reached Thebes, the mighty city of a 
hundred gates, which stretched for miles on both sides 
of the Nile. Its real name was Uast, and how it came 
to be named after the Greek town of Thebes I do not 
know. In the Hebrew Bible it is called No. 

We landed at that part of Uast where now stands 
the little town of Luxor, on the east bank of the river. 
The necropoHs is on the opposite side. " Rather Hke 

165 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



a broken-down cotton-factory/' remarked the Warrior, 
pointing to the ruins of Karnak ; and in truth, at first 
sight, viewed from the river, the temple is a httle dis- 
appointing. On closer acquaintance the effect is very 
much the reverse. The temples of Luxor and Karnak 




BEDOUINS AT HOME 



were formerly joined together by a magnificent avenue 
of sphinxes, well over a mile long and fifty-five cubits 
wide. The priests of the temples, we are told by Strabo, 
were astronomers and philosophers. And there is no 
reason to doubt it. AVhile other nations measured time 
by the moon, they reckoned by the sun, and divided the 
year into three hundred and sixty-five days of twelve 
months, each month having thirty days, and five days 

166 



Temple and Tomb 

over. The odd bit of day still left was held over, as it 
now is, and stuck in at the end of every fourth year. 
This will to some appear a better system than our own, 




CLEOPATRA 



with its months of thirty and thirty-one days, and its 
" slow month February alone." I have seen a young 
lady's diary with the third of March carefully entered as 
February 31. 

The esoteric worship of Amen would not greatly have 
167 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



shocked the late Prof. Huxley ^nor our present en- 
lightened Bishop of London. But it seems to have been 
expounded to the masses in the garb of an ancient and 
magnificent symbolism. 

One can find no words to express abhorrence of the 



I 




'•RATHER LIKE A BROKEX-DOWX COTTON FACTORY" 

Persian Cambyses and the stupid barbarity ^yith which 
he smashed everything he came across, and, amongst 
other things, these grand monuments of an age and a 
people he could not understand. 

On the other side of the Nile we found a huge statue 
of Rameses II. fort}- cubits high (or sixty feet, if my 
readers insist on using our stupid English measures). 
This he overthrew and mutilated. At Karnak he be- 

i68 



Temple and Tomb 



headed as many statues as he could lay hands on. But 
the granite statue of Rameses II. in the Luxor temple 
eluded his spiteful vigilance, and there it stands to this 
day. There also stands one of his beautiful obelisks, 
but its twin-brother, as everybody knows, stands in the 




CARIBYSES BEHEADS THE STATUES 



middle of the Place de la What-shall-we-call-it .^^ — Con- 
corde ? I believe that is the present name of the great 
square in Paris, but it once bore another name — and it 
will again. Place Zola would sound quite as well as 
Place de la Revolution ! 

The grandest part of the Karnak temple is the Hall 
of Columns. These sombre ruins we desecrated by 
spreading out a white cloth and covering it with the 

169 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

flesh-pots of Egypt, all arranged in the best style of 
Selim Gaziri, and then removing them again — but not 
back into the hampers in which they arrived — we drank 




HATSHEPSET'S OBELISK AT KARXAC 



to the memory of Rameses the Great ; and just one 
bumper to the Lady Hatshepset, whose obelisk towers 
np some little way off. The top of it bears traces of 
having been at one time gilded, as some say, to cause 
it to glitter far and wide. This queen may be regarded 

170 



Temple and Tomb 

as the prototype of the new woman," for we are told 
that "scarcely had her royal brother and husband closed 
his eyes, when the proud queen threw aside her woman's 
veil, and appeared in all the splendour of Pharaoh as 
a born king : for she laid aside her woman's dress and 




TOMBS OF THE KINGS 



clothed herself in man's attire." I may add that I saw a 
contemporary portrait of her wearing a man's beard. 
Our new woman has not got so far as that yet. So, 
after all, she is thirty-five centuries behind the time, 
and not in advance of the age, as she is pleased to 
suppose. On one of the walls of the temple is inscribed 
a poem by one Pen-ta-urt, celebrating the victories of 
Rameses the Great. This poem must be the oldest 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



in the world. It was wTitten more than three centuries 
before King David w^as born, and at least eight centuries 
before "his" Psalms were wTitten. And giving Homer 
his earliest possible date, he could not have written or 
even composed the Iliad till many centuries after the 
death of Pen-ta-urt. 

Crossing the river in a rowing boat — our donkeys and 
Arabs crossed in another — we mounted and rode off to 
visit the Temple of Kurneh, and the Ramesseum, and 
the Tombs of the Kings. Of the latter, the only one we 
thoroughly explored was that of Seti I., the father of 
Rameses the Great. This tomb, w^hich is a gradual 
incHne 500 feet long, ends at a point 150 feet deep, and 
its walls are covered with pictures showing the life of the 
dead in the under-world. Some of these paintings are 
grotesque. To modern eyes they are unquestionably 
indecent. Unless they w^ere intended to be merely 
symboUc, the Egyptian ideal of an after-life would appear 
to have been a state of intense sensual, but thoughtless, 
bliss. But I regard them as merely symbolic. 

On our return from the tombs to the river we passed 
the Colossi. Their present appearance, sitting in the 
midst of a wide unpeopled plain, and staring straight in 
front of them, is w^eird and eery. Two huge monoliths, 
sixty feet high, without a tree or a rock w^ithin miles of 
them, are well calculated to inspire the inhabitants wdth 
wonder and dread. Strange stories are told about them. 
In the olden time, the northern one used to groan or 
sigh at sunrise. But two thousand years ago it received 
a shock of earthquake, and has not spoken since. There 
is nothing at all improbable in this. Strabo himself 
heard the voice, but not very distinctly. He could not 

172 



Temple and Tomb 

be sure whether the sound proceeded from the mouth of 
the statue, or from some one standing at its base. His 
scepticism is delicately expressed — ''from the uncertainty 
of the cause, I am disposed to beUeve anything rather 
than that stones disposed in that manner could emit a 




IN, THE TOMB OF "THE ROSY BELLE" 



sound." His visit to Thebes was about a generation 
before Christ. If he had described the noise a little 
more particularly, one could have made a better guess at 
the cause. If, as some said, it resembled a sigh, it might 
be caused by the breeze, which always springs up at sun- 
rise and sunset, blowing through an orifice in the statue. 
This orifice might be accidental, or it might have been 
intentionally made. But if the sound was, as others say, 

173 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

more like the note of a 'cello than that of an .-Eolian 
harp, it might be caused b}' the sudden expansion or 
contraction of one stone grating on another. That the 
vocal Colobsus was cracked is likely enough, seemg that 
very shortly after Strabo's visit the head and shoulders 
fell off and were smashed. 

Dwellers in England can form no idea of the regularity 
of the breezes and the changes of temperature on the 
Xile. You can foretell to a minute precisely when the 
wind will rise, and the thermometer fall, and how much. 
The air of the barren hills in which the tombs are hewn 
out of the solid rock (Strabo says there were forty of 
them) is the finest and most invigorating in the world. 
One who feels weak and weary after a walk of five miles 
in England, or two in the Riviera, will find himself as 
fresh as paint after a fifteen-mile go-as-you-please 
scramble over these hills and valleys. Try Luxor. If 
you can persuade Amineh and Fatima to accompany 
you on your rambles and amuse you with their pretty 
Arabic -English, they will in no wise detract from your 
enjoyment of the scenery, to which they are in all 
respects adapted, both in dress and complexion. 

One day the British and Russian Consular Agent, 
Achmet Effendi, invited us to dinner. Perhaps,'* said 
he, ''you would find it a novel experience to dine in 
Arab fashion, utterly regardless of European manners 
and customs?"" We jumped at the idea. It was a 
mid-day dinner. We sat on the ground round a large 
embossed brass tray, or legless table. An Arab youth 
clad in white burnouse with yellow sash, a red fez and 
red slippers, placed before each visitor a small brass 
basin of water, a napkin (or knapkin, as the Warrior 

174 



Temple and Tomb 

spells it), and a loaf of bread. Presently a large dish of 
soup or stew is planted in the middle of the tray, and 
into this all the members of the party dip chunks of 




PYLON AT LUXOR 



bread, or help themselves with spoons. There are no 
knives or forks. Six or eight courses follow, consisting 
of different joints and preparations of the animal which 
has been slain for the feast. On this occasion it was not 
a fatted calf but a fine sheep. The dishes were variously 

175 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



dressed, and served with rice, durra, herbs, and spices. I 
may mention en passant that Egyptian beef is atrociouS; 
and Egyptian bacon infinitely worse ; but the mutton is 
excellent. The Com. was somewhat taken aback when 
the Effendi, dipping his fingers in the stew and fishing 
out a piece of the breast, tore it asunder and presented 
him with a choice morsel. But apart from prejudice, 
having regard to the thoroughness of Oriental ablution 
before meals, there is nothing objectionable in the 
custom, to which all but the fastidious easily become 
reconciled. When the last course appeared — the sheep's 
head roasted — and our host plucked out one of its eyes 
and swallowed it, a sense of incongruity (shall I call it ?) 
overtook more than one of his visitors. Clare was more 
stoical. " Is it a delicacy ? " he whispered to the Wily 
Warrior. " Rather," was the emphatic reply ; " I was just 
going to sneak the other eye, but if you have not tried 
it, I will yield to you." The self-sacrificing offer was 
promptly accepted. 

AVh ether the memory of that fria?idise still lingers in 
the gullet of the young philosopher is known only to 
himself ; but his expression was — well, not one of un- 
alloyed bliss. 

Cigarettes and coffee rounded off the repast, and we 
sallied forth to inspect the antiquarian treasures of a 
neighbouring curiosity shop, the proprietor of which is 
retained by the authorities of the British Museum to 
look out for any valuables that come his way. The 
Com. bought, inter alia^ the mummy of a little girl. 
The Warrior bought another. ^' It will give my clerical 
brother a bit of a knock," he said; ^'I'll tell him it is 
Potiphar's wife when she was a little girl." 

176 



Temple and Tomb 

That evening at table d'hote in the Luxor Hotel the 
following conversation was overheard : 

Hon. Sec. Oh, yes ; two of our party bought a couple 
of Egyptian girls this morning. 

Elderly Lady [in a confidential undertone\. How dis- 




TRUE ARABS ARE SCRUPULOUSLY CLEAN 



graceful ! Besides, I thought the slave-trade was abolished, 
and all that sort of thing. In any case, it is not a thing 
to be talked about, is it ? What can their parents be 
about ? 

Hon. Sec. Dead. 

Elderly Lady. Poor dears — orphans ; how sad ! But 
have they no friends to look after them ? 
Hon. Sec. All dead. 

177 M 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

Elderly Lady. But surely there must be some society 
to take up cases like this. How old are the poor 
things ? 

Hex. Sec. Oh, very old. 

Elderly Lady \takeu alnick]. Then why did they 
buy — I mean — I thought you called them girls. 

Hon. Sec. They are none the worse for being old. 

Elderly Lady \archl\\ Still, there is a limit, I sup- 
pose. 

Hon. Sec I don't know that there is, provided they 
are well preserved. 

Elderly Lady \:^la}ici}ig down at a well-noiLrished 
arni^ and favouriJig Jier co/upanioji with a blush she had 
had In' hc?\ unworn, for decades\ Exactly. Of course. 
Provided they are well preserved ; but why did you call 
them girls ? 

Hox. Sec. Ah ! perhaps I should have said little 
children. They are quite small, you know. 

Elderly Lady \_perple-xed\ Really, you are either 
confustd or confusing. Little children, and yet very 
old. Oh, you mean they look old and wizened, poor 
dears. 

Hox. Sec. A^ery. 

Elderly Lady. But really^ they are quite young and 
frisky ? 

Hox. Sec. Not frisky — dead. 

Elderly Lady \_nervousI\\ bu.t with a mental resolve to 
remain calni\. Dead! what do you mean? 
Hox. Sec. \_sepulchrallj\ Corpses. 
Elderly Lady [moving her chair slightly\ Corpses? 
Hon. Sec. [capriuioso\ Yes — mummies, you know. 

178 



Temple and Tomb 

"They spoke no more that day." Had the Elderly 
Lady been Cleopatra or Nitocris or Hatshepset, the 
Hon. Sec. would not have survived 'many hours. He 
really has very little tact with elderly ladies, considering 
his age. 



179 



CHAPTER IX 



ISLAM 

Ix a weak moment we had come to an agreement that 
once a week each member of the party should read a 
paper suggested by the scenes and experiences of the 
journey. Thus it came about that one evening in the 
cosy saloon of the Xitocris, the Literary Failure got 
an opportunity of dehvering himself of the following 
diatribe, which the reader is respectfully advised to 
skip : 

Fellow martyrs to science, and exiles from home, he 
began ; I propose to lay before you to-night a few 
hasty reflections on the present rehgion of the manly 
and charming people by whom we are now surrounded. 
The old cataclysmic theory of jumps is as dead in the 
domain of social evolution as the special creation 
hypothesis in the field of natural history. It is only the 
bigot's eye which sees differences where none exist. It 
is. therefore, with the greater pleasure that, before 
offering any conjectures of my own, I submit a passage 
from -'The History of ^Mohammedanism " by that 
learned Christian divine, Dr. W. C. Taylor. " That 
Mohammedanism was an imitation of Christianity was 
not merely the confession, but the boast of its founder.'' 

i8o 



Islam 



I go further. I say it was and is a form of Christianity, 
and, compared with the rehgion of Mahomet's day, a 
reform, in the highest sense of the word. Dr. Taylor 
continues, " Mahomet declared that he preached to his 
countrymen no new doctrine ; that the tenets of Islam 




PLOUGHING 



were the same that God had originally revealed to Adam, 
to Noah, and to Abraham ; which Moses had received 
amid the thunders of Sinai, and which the Incarnate 
Word had taught in Judaea and Galilee. Neither do the 
modern Moslems assert the originality of their creed ; 
on the contrary, they declare that nothing but wilful per- 
versity could prevent both Jews and Christians from find - 
ing the doctrines of Islam in the Bible." In fact, the 

i8e 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



new sect was to the seventh century what the Protestant 
Reformation was to the sixteenth — a revolt against idolatry. 
To us it is best known through its modern exponents, 
the Turks, whose Tartar fanaticism and lack of intelli- 
gence have corrupted it beyond recognition ; just as 
early Christianity was saturated with the imbecilities of 
the Northern barbarians after the fall of Rome in the 
Dark Ages. Islam ought to be studied as a new and 
living creed in the days of Harun al Rashid : and not in 
the Turkish mosques of the present century. 

What would be thought of an Oriental writer who 
should maintain that Christians are a gay, volatile, 
and capricious race ? To which Christian race do you 
refer?" he would be asked. And we may suppose him 
to answer, " Well, of course there are slight differences 
among Christians, but practically what I have said 
describes them all." Yet this is not unlike the average 
Englishman's treatment of Mahommedans. They are, we 
are told;, a fanatical, superstitious, intolerant, and un- 
speculative people. Of the Turks, this may be a correct 
description, but of the Arabs it is the precise reverse of 
the truth in every particular. They are a gay, amiable, 
quick-witted, tolerant, genial, and intellectual race. Most 
of Mahomet's Arab companions, as Renan points out, 
hardly believed in his supernatural mission ; incredulity 
was rife during the first six centuries ; and it was not 
till the creed had been embraced by Spaniards in the 
West and Turks in the East that stern aggressive fanati- 
cism was manifested. 

As far back as the twelfth century we find the celebrated 
Ibn Roshd dismissed from Court for daring to assert 
that truth is based on reason alone. There is nothing 

182 



Islam 



very Turkish about that. After surveying the writings 
of Algazzal of Bagdad, Renan exclaimed, Even Hume 
has said no more." And Lewes declares that Algazzal's 
great work on the science of religion bears so remark- 
able a resem.blance to Descartes' Methode that, had any 




SHIPS OF THE DESERT 



translation of it existed in the days of Descartes, every 
one would have cried out against the plagiarism. 
Abubacer rejected the Ptolemaic theory of the heavenly 
bodies three centuries before Copernicus was born. 

Again, " it is eminently probable," writes Lewes, ^' that 
Kepler borrowed his optical views from Al Hazan." This 
great Arab philosopher, who lived, be it rcmciv.bcred, 
before the first Crusade^ refuted the Greek theory of 
light, explained refraction, and actually pointed out the 

183 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



reason why we can see the stars before they rise and 
after they set. 

EarHer still, at Bokhara, lived Ibn Sina, better known 
as Avicenna, the gay and learned physician. What 
light, I pray, emanates from Bokhara now? Every 
evening, we are told, "he lectured on philosophy or 
medicine to a large and attentive audience. The lecture 
over, he ordered musicians to appear, and being of a 
festive disposition, fonder of the pleasures of the table 
than became a philosopher and physician. ..." I do 
not see why a philosopher should not be fond of the 
pleasures of the table and all other rational pleasures, 
and I mention the detail merely to show that this great 
thinker had risen above the vulgar notion that wisdom is 
necessarily gloomy and ascetic. Avicenna was fond of 
wine, and, on being reproached for his defiance of the 
Koran, replied : " AVine is forbidden because it excites 
quarrels and bad passions, but I, being preserved from 
excesses by my philosophy, drink wine to sharpen my 
wits." This passage may be commended to those who 
persist in regarding IMahommedans as morose and bigoted. 
It is interesting to note that its author was the founder of 
the modern classification of the faculties into Sensation, 
Ideation, Reason, and Will; and further, that he died 
before the Norman conquest of England, and conse- 
quently some years before the bishops had quite decided 
how many angels could stand on the point of a needle. 
A century earlier Al Farabi, the Arab mathematician, 
wrote a treatise on music, containing a complete theory 
of the art, treating of sounds, concords, intervals, 
rhythms, and cadence. Of Al Kendi we read that he 
lived in the ninth century at Bagdad and that he was 

184 



Islam 

entrusted by the Khalif, Al Rashid, with the translation 
of Aristotle into Arabic. It was of men like these, and 
of rulers like Haroun himself, and Al Mamoon, and Al 




CARGO OF WATER-JARS 



Mansur, that Sophronius, the Bishop of Jerusalem, 
exclaimed, when that city fell into Arab hands, " Now, 
indeed, is the abomination of desolation on the Holy of 
Holies." Meantime, "the aspect of learning in Christian 
Europe was piteous." 

185 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



But this is merely the opinion of an English philoso- 
pher, G. H. Lewes, and he may have been prejudiced. 
I prefer, therefore, to appeal to the high authority of 
the Church itself, as expressed at one of the great 
Councils : " We all believe, we all assent, we all sub- 
scribe. This is the faith of the Apostles ; this is the 
faith of the Church ; this is the faith of the Orthodox ; 
this is the faith of the World. We, who adore the 
Trinity, worship images. Whoever does not the like, 
anathema upon him ! " Well, the great Khalifs of 
Bagdad did not the like, neither did the philosophers 
whom they encouraged, nor the attentive audiences who 
sat at the feet of Ibn Sina. Anathema upon them all ! 
We must organise Crusades in order to change their 
opinions. 

Nevertheless, all through the black centuries, the 
Arabs, and the Arabs alone, kept the Hght burning. 
They translated the works of the Greek philosophers 
and mathematicians, many of which would otherwise 
have been lost to us. They improved upon them. 
They observed nature, widened the domain of science, 
cultivated art. They invented new astronomical instru- 
ments, and a new mathematical notation. In short, they 
carried on the work of civilisation all through those grim 
ages during which Europe groped in a darkness which 
could be felt — a darkness compared with which the 
worship of Amen-Ra was as a blazing torch. 

Talking of the Arabic notation, it may be interesting 
to point out I ow the Arab who invented it set about his 
task, and how our numerals reached their present forms. 
At first sight they look rather arbitrary and conventional. 
We shall see. He drew one line to denote One : two 

i86 



Islam 

lines to denote Two ; three lines to denote Three ; a 
square to denote Four; a five-lined figure to denote 
Five ; and so on up to Nine : thus : 

By writing these signs rapidly they assumed these 
forms : 

and finally in process of time they became what we 
know : 

I i\S CI 

Compare this with the clumsy Roman notation and 
the equally awkward Greek. 

"Oh yes," the Hon. Sec. interjected, "you will tell us 
next that some ancient Egyptian called Pil-Lu invented 
a system of telegraphing chess-moves by means of two 
letters only. We were not born yesterday.'' 

Disregarding the interruption, the lecturer continued. 

With respect to Arab rule, we are told by Hallam that 
"the Moslem conquerors were mild and liberal in com- 
parison with those who obeyed the pontiffs of Rome and 
Constantinople." Speaking of Tyre, Mr. Philip Smith 
says, " The Arab conquest secured for it new prosperity 
under the gentle government of the Caliphs, till it finally 
succumbed to the dominion of the Turks (a.d. T516)." 
" Regard the Arabs of to-day," writes Dozy ; " although 
Mussulmans by name, they care but little for the precepts 

187 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

of Islamism. The European traveller who knows them 
best will bear witness that they are the most tolerant 
people of Asia."' In Spain."" writes Lewes, '■■ they per- 
mitted Jews and Christians to retain their religious rites 
and daily customs. So successful was this policy of 




ARAB HUT 



conciliation that Christians and ^vlahommedans not only 
lived together amicably, bur often intermarried. And 
it is worthy of note that from Spain Arabian culture 
slowly penetrated Europe.'"" During the very worst 
period of darkness, he points out,. Andalusia, under the 
^VEihommedans. was the centre of light. It was the 
market where all the literary treasures of the East found 
ready sale. 

iSS 



Islam 



Too much stress is usually laid on the dogmatic beliefs 
avowed by a people. The truth is, that the professed 
religion of a race has very little bearing on its tempera- 
ment or behaviour. When Togrol Beg embraced 
Mahommedanism with all his soldiers and subjects, it 




MOSQUE AT ASYUT 



must not be supposed that he thereby remodelled the 
intellectual and moral nature of the Turk. That remained 
just what it was. New shibboleths only were adopted. 
The Mahommedan and Christian Arabs of Asyut get on 
admirably together. They smile at the mistaken (as they 
suppose) opinions of each other ; and the educated Arab 
smiles at both. But there is no intolerance, no ill-will, 
no anathematising. I remember offering a glass of wine 

189 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



to an Arab at Tunis, chiefly with the mischievous object 
of seeing how he would refuse it. Quaffing it off, to my 
surprise, he drank my health. I thought," said I, 
that wine was forbidden by your religion ? " Drunken- 
ness, not drink, is what is meant he replied with a 
smile. 

Nations are not much affected by their creeds. Athe- 
nian civilization flourished alongside an airy polytheism. 
If Mahomet II. had embraced Christianity as he was 
urged to do by Pius II. in the most futile letter ever 
penned by mortal man, the Turks would now be dull, 
sensual, fanatical Christians, instead of dull, sensual, 
fanatical Mahommedans. That is all. And if England 
had accepted the Koran in the tenth century she would 
wear her ]Mahommedanism as lightly as she now wears 
her Christianity. 

The reHgion of a country is no clue to its intellectual 
and moral condition ; neither, as we are gradually begin- 
ning to see, is its language at all a sure test of its racial 
origin. The fact that Hebrew, Arabic, and Phoenician 
are varieties of the same Semitic tongue is no longer held 
to be conclusive evidence of the near kinship of the races 
speaking them. One can single out a Jew in the Egyptian 
bazaars as easily as on the London Stock Exchange; 
and I shall be much surprised if anthropology does not 
reveal the fact that, despite their common language, the 
Hebrews and Arabs are racially as distinct as Englishmen 
and Esquimaux. In my mind there is no doubt that the 
thoroughbred coffee-complexioned Arab is the lineal 
descendant of the Egyptian pyramid-builders. I have 
walked out of the tombs at Beni-hasan and at Thebes, 
and have met outside the very men and women who are 

190 



Islam 



depicted on the walls within. In form, feature, and com- 
plexion the modern Arab working his shadoof or driving 
his camels is the exact counterpart of the men and gods 
of thirty and forty centuries ago. What have these 
architects and painters of Memphis and of Thebes in 




A CHILD OF THE DESERT 



common with the people who for a thousand years 
flourished at Jerusalem, and who never, during the whole 
of that period, erected a single building better than a 
hut ? The Great Temple was of course built by the 
Phoenicians. What have the inventors of writing and of 
mathematical notation, the pioneers of astronomy, the 
engineers of the Fayyoum, the circumnavigators of Africa 
in common with a race which never added a new truth 

191 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



to science nor enriched art by so much as a painting or 
a statue? Of the Arabic-speaking Egyptians we may 
say, " Truly the voice is the voice of Shem, but the blood 
is the blood of Mena." 

Surprise has been expressed, not only by Hallam, but 
by many other historians, at the extraordinarily and 
almost miraculously rapid growth of Arabian civilization. 
That a few nomad and half-savage tribes in Arabia 
suddenly sprang into the front rank, seized half the 
Roman Empire from Gibraltar to Bagdad, and held aloft 
the lamps of truth and justice, at a time when Europe 
w^as fast sinking into savagery, is at first sight inexplicable. 
But we must bear in mind that at the death of Mahomet 
in 632, neither his cult nor his arms had overleaped the 
narrow bounds of Arabia itself. Not until Egypt had 
been subjugated by Amru do we detect so much as a 
glimmer of the higher light that was to burn steadily all 
through the long night between the sunset of Rome and 
the dawn of Italy. That the people of the Arabian 
peninsula were, like the Bedouins of to-day, a mixed 
race, partly descended from the Egyptians, is probable. 
That they had adopted the religion and possibly the 
language of some early Semitic conquerors, like the 
Hyksos, is likely enough. But that the womb of Arabia 
held the genus of the great Saracen Empire is well-nigh 
inconceivable. Shall we not rather say that the sudden 
splendour of Islam was in truth the Ancient Flame of 
Mizraim blazing up once more from the embers where it 
had smouldered since its apparent extinction by the 
legions of Rome? — in short, the Fourth Egyptian 
Empire ? 

That this is the true solution of the riddle I myself 
192 



Islam 

have no doubt. There stands the Great Pyramid, the 
emblem of eternal mind — at all events, the realist emblem 
on this planet — and there at its foot dwell the sons of its 
builders. Crushed by the Shepherd Kings, worshippers 
of the Ox-god ; crushed by Cambyses, the wrecker of Art ; 




VILLAGE ON THE BANK 



crushed by Alexander, still thirsting for more blood to 
spill ; crushed by Octavius, the despot of decadent Rome ; 
crushed by Selim, the fratricide Turk — Egypt still lives. 
Not dead, but sleeping, Hke a prostrate warrior she lies, 
nursed by a kindly sister. The history of the Pyramid 
is not ended yet. 

''Bravo Jus!" cried the Wily One, "you have been 
burning the ship's oil to some purpose." 

J 93 N 



Down the Str^eam of Civilization 



"A more elaborate tissue of tommy-rot it has never 
been my lot to listen to," said the Com. 

''It seems to me,'" added the Hon. Sec., "that you 
are a bit gone on that girl Amineh, and your head is 
turned.'"" 




THE DESERT AS IT REALLY IS 



" I don't know about that/'" the 'Varsity Man said 
thoughtfully : "I think your theory of the sudden spread 
of Arabian philosophy sounds rational enough. But are 
you not flying in the face of all the authorities?" 

" He always does," the Wily One replied for him. 

^''Well," said the Literary Failure, moistening his lips 
with hot water carefully diluted with a drop of Dewar's 

194 



Islam 



best whisky,* them's my sentiments — take 'em or 
leave 'em." 

The said sentiments were forgotten, but the example 
was carefully followed, though not with that exactitude 
due to the example of a prophet. The 'Varsity Man 
ordered a lemon squash. The Hon. Sec. got outside 
(as he expressed it) a pint of bitter. The AVily one pre- 
ferred a glass of dry champagne ; and the Com. thought 
a little light wine might do him good. Whereupon they 
all retired to their respective bunks, and the 'Varsity man 
dreamt that he was being cornered by the Ox-god with 
red-hot horns ; the Hon. Sec. that he was being " preached 
to death by wild curates " ; the Wily One dreamt that the 
pyramid had six sides to it, with a number on each side ; 
the Com. slept the dreamless sleep of the just, while the 
Literary Failure dreamt of Amineh and her beautiful 
eyes. So they say. 

The reference to Dewar's whisky is a mere advertisement 
reluctantly inserted by the writer at the urgent request of the 
Literary Failure, whose stock is running rather short. 



CHAPTER X 

TURKISH WELCOME AT JOPPA 

The Nitoc7'is^ unlike the yacht of the Morning Post^ 
could proceed no further than Aswan ; so mountmg our 
gallant steeds — if asses can be called steeds — we went 
off at a smart gallop through the sandy and rocky desert 
to PhilEe. Yet we did not far outstrip our Arab escort, 
who, though on foot, covered the ten miles in very little 
over the hour. The ruins of Phil^ are the most beautiful 
in the world. If a single one of my numerous and ac- 
complished readers doubt it, let him get himself rowed 
over to the island — the frontier-island, as it was called 
in the days of the Amen-heteps. It is the smaller of the 
two which lie just south of the Cataract. The larger 
one is called Biggeh — " most appropriately," the Com. 
observed. Let him stretch a rug in "Pharaoh's Bed," as 
one of the little temples is called, or, indeed, in any other 
part of the ruins ; but not before whispering to Selim 
that he wishes to dream away the afternoon where Cleo- 
patra dreamed. Let him obey the injunctions of that 
modern ^^sculapius to the very last drop of Liebfrau- 
milch, or " fizz," as the case may be. And then let him 
resign himself to contemplation and reverie. 

We did these things, and more also. And then we 
196 



Turkish Welcome at Joppa 

pulled ourselves together for the anti-climax — the hurry- 
scurry and headlong rush back through the Cataract. 
It is a glorious experience. While we reclined beneath 




AT PHIL^ 



a canopy in the strong, quaint boat in which the passage 
of the rapids is effected — the choregus sits on the gun- 
wale, armed with a species of tom-tom, to the accom- 
paniment of which he sings wild chants, urging the 
oarsmen to redoubled exertion. They all join in the 

197 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



chorus, a minor strain synchronising with the strokes of 
the oars, while the old pilot, hand on tiller, gazes with 
solemn (perhaps affected) anxiety at the rocks ahead 
and the raging surf around. After each point of danger 
successfully passed, Allah is loudly thanked, and the last 




"VER GOOD DOXKEY. I AM YOUR FRIEXD" 



of them is the signal for a lusty Hip, hip, hurrah ! It is 
most inspiriting to watch the young Arabs on the banks 
fling themselves into, the roaring torrent from a rock 
twenty-five feet high. Down they go, one after the 
other, laughing and cheering, and away they are swept 
by the current, like corks in a mill-race. Not one of the 
twenty or thirty who performed the feat for our delec- 
tation sustained any injury; but it is said that if a 

198 



Turkish Welcome at Joppa 

stranger were to attempt it he would inevitably be 
dashed to pieces. And I can well believe it. Some 
of these fellows come whirling down the rapids on 
chunks of wood and in tubs, but they never forget 
the reward which such exploits deserve. 




SHOOTING THE CATARACT 



On arriving at Aswan we found our Rosy Belle with 
her head resolutely facing northward, and after sticking 
on a sandbank for six hours, just beyond the Isle of 
Elephantine, we set off down-stream. The temples of 
Kom-ombo, of Esneh, and of Edfu all date — as to 
their main buildings — from the comparatively recent age 
of the Ptolemies. Kom-ombo, both as to position and 

199 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

preservation, is the most picturesque of the Egyptian 
temples north of Philae. 

I think it is Baedeker who relates a legend picked 
up from a native of Kom-ombo. I wish I had the book 
at hand to refresh my memory, because I wish to point 




EXTRAXCE TO CATARACT 



to it as a shocking example of legend-weaving. The 
bad prince kills his good brother ; the people are grieved 
and refuse to work for him ; thereupon he summons the 
dead to rise up and to plough and sow his fields. This 
they do, but by the pale moonlight the ploughs and 
their phantom bullocks can be seen skimming in the 
air a foot or so above the surface. And then, when the 
harvests should be at hand, the bad prince finds that 

200 



Turkish Welcome at Joppa 

instead of wheat the dead had sown only sand. This 
story is so thoroughly Teutonic in tone, so absurdly un- 
Egyptian, that it is surprising how it should come to be 
served up as an authentic legend on the bare testimony 
of some half-Berber donkey-boy, and at second hand. 




ASWAN 

At Asyut our mirth was turned to melancholy. The 
Rich Banker was suddenly recalled to England on affairs 
of State which could brook no delay. He went to the 
piano as usual, and in plaintive tones made a rambling 
statement to the effect that he was off to Philadelphia 
in the morning. Then the Warrior declared that he also 
was off to Philadelphia in the morning. But when the 
Com. chimed in, and they all made the same untrue 

20I 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



statement together, the Hghts went out : the Arabs fell 
on their faces and sued for mercv, and Sehm rushed in 
to find out whether the rats had got into the piano, or 
something had gone wrong in the engine-room. Then 
we went ashore and supported Cassias to the station, 




EDFU FROM THE PYLON 



and lifted him tenderly into a comfortable carriage, for 
liis fourteen-hour railway journey to Cairo. Whether he 
ever reached Philadelphia I have not yet heard. 

On returning to the dahabieh it became evident that 
something very serious was the matter with the 'Varsity 
Man. ^Ve tried boiled banana poultices inside, and 
Capri lotion, and everything we could think of, but all 
in vain. At last he owned up. In the waiting-room at 

20'Z 



Turkish Welcome at Joppa 

the station he had met the loveliest creature in the world. 
She was a poem, a goddess, and a chocolate cream, all 
rolled into one. He was beside himself. He could 
talk of nothing, think of nothing, dream of nothing but 
his divinity. Could he but survive till morning he was to 




KOM-OMBO 



meet her again on the river bank. What rapture ! Oh, 
those ten long, long hours ! But they came to an end ; 
and the Idyl appeared on the bank. The flowing white 
burnouse was gone ; gone the saffron sash and the 
many-hued head-dress. And the young Arab merchant, 
attired in his workaday raiment, stood before us. Clare 
was petrified. The shock was a severe one ; however, 
he bore up wonderfully. But he never loved again — for 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



several days. And he will never forget — -he will never 
be allowed to forget — his first Arabian sweetheart. 

We did not touch at many points on the downward 
journey. We lounged all day on deck, watching the 
life on the dark-brown level banks, with the cinnamon- 




KOM-OMBO 



coloured hills beyond, all as level on the top as though 
they had been mown with a scythe. The shadoofs 
were always at work with their creaking see-saw. 
Ibises, buffaloes, myriads of pigeons, camels, asses, 
wagtails, and goats marched, flew, ran, and flitted 
everywhere. Little green paroquets glinted like eme- 
ralds amid the tall durra. Boys with slings, like that 
with which David slew Goliath, flung stones at the 

204 



Turkish Welcome at Joppa 

winged thieves who do not respect private property ; 
a full furlong and more they flung them, with a crack 
like the report of a pistol. And then the sun set. Long 




POEM, ■; GODDESS, AND CHOCOLATE , CREAM ! 



bands of carmine streaked the western sky, broken 
by the black outlines of hills and palms. But the 
Eastern panorama was even more wonderful. Mys- 
terious iris hues, like a long horizontal rainbow, rise in 
strata from the hills to the green sky above. I believe 

205 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



these prismatic tints are due to the sand, which, in vary- 
ing densities, fills the air. It is caught up by the rising 
breeze, which always accompanies the fall of the sun. 
This seems to me to be the explanation of that unique 
tone of Egyptian sunsets which has fascinated travellers 
from the earliest times ; and which when reproduced on 
canvas usually produces an effect of unreality. I now 
and then recall the whole scene as in a lotus-eater's 
dream. 

" Coats, gentlemen," rose Selim's warning voice, just 
five minutes before the precise moment of time when 
scorching day gives place to chilly eve ; and then, after 
watching the stars come out and the moon glimmer 
through the palm branches, we would one by one 
descend to the cosy saloon, and end the day with — con- 
found sentiment ! — with whisky and poker. 

After lingering for another fortnight at Cairo, we bade 
farewell to the Nile, and went off, via Ismailia, and the 
Bitter Lakes, and the Suez Canal, to Port Said ; where 
we re- embarked on the Maria^ bound for Joppa. 

At the Warrior's urgent request, we broke our journey 
at Tel-el-Kebir and at Ismailia. From the former we 
proceeded to the little cemetery where the English 
soldiers who fell in that battle lie buried among palms 
and cypresses. It seems to be carefully tended. All 
about the sands of El Wady we sought in vain for the 
missing heel of Orlando, which was blown off fifteen 
years ago in this neighbourhood. "You are searching 
in the wrong place," said the Com. "How so? " asked 
the Warrior. " You would have been more likely to 
find it at Heliopolis," was the reply. Clearly the Com.^s 
case is quite hopeless. At Ismailia we drove round 

206 



I 



Turkish Welcome at Joppa 

Egypt's youngest city, with its fine avenues, its bridges 
and hotels, its lake and its fresh-water canal. The 
Warrior pointed out the little window in the Viceroy's 
Palace from which he used to gaze with glittering eye 
and fevered brain, wondering whether he would ever 




CONVICTS AT ASWAN 



again see the rocky glens of his native land. The 
memory of past sufferings is not in itself painful, and, 
strange to say, we rather envied him his reflections. 

But I am going back on my track, for the Maria is 
now threading her way between the green and red lights 
at the ends of the two breakwaters of Port Said, and we, 
having supped on board, are asking, Watchman, what 
of the night ? " for we have heard disquieting rumours 

207 



! 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



of Neptune's little doings ever since we reached Cairo. 
Indeed, the Clyde had not been heard of for forty-eight 
hours, and a search party had put out from Malta to look 
for her. The managers of the Cairo hotels make capital 
out of these telegrams, which they post in conspicuous 




AXCIEXT r^IE^IORIES 



places, as a warning to yachtsmen. However, we found 
the sea settling down again and in a tolerable humour. 

It was in the early morning of December 1 2 that the 
Com. knocked us all up out of our beauty sleep with the 
intelligence that if we wanted to land at Jaffa, now was 
the moment. ''The wind is rising," he said, ''and the 
Captain is dead against our making the attempt as it is, 
so hurry up." It was a chilly grey morning and a heavy 

208 



Turkish Welcome at Joppa 



sea was running. What about breakfast ? " wept the 
Wily One. " No time for that," answered the Com. ; *'it 
is now or never. We must breakfast in Joppa." 

We romped into our " things " * and instructed the 
stewards to stuff what was necessary for a four or five days' 
absence into bags and pitch them after us into the gig. 
Jus will not easily forget what the third steward regarded as 
necessary for such a trip. His bag was as big and bulgy 
as any one's, but he had no knowledge of its contents 
until he opened it at Jerusalem. It contained two dozen 
linen shirts, a bulky dressing-gown, a smoking-jacket, a 
filled camera, an evening-dress suit, a Nubian scarf, and 
a Coptic dictionary, some opera glasses, and several suits 
of pyjamas. It did not contain a boot, a shoe, a sock, a 
collar, a coat, or a handkerchief, neither did it contain 
razor, sponge, soap, comb, nor brush of any kind. 
Altogether it was a specimen kit. However, it helped 
to fill the boat, and it looked well. 

In fifteen minutes, empty, unkempt, half awake, and 
none the better for a night's rocking, we were all in the 
gig and off. " She will break her back in the surf, and I 
shall jump for it," growled the second mate as a sea 
broke over the gunwale and left us over the ankles in 
water. The Warrior and the Hon. Sec. removed their 
shoes and coats and prepared for the worst. Unfor- 
tunately, it soon became obvious that the boat was leak- 
ing pretty quickly. She had been out of water and in a 
blazing sun for two months. But it was too late to 
return to the yacht with the wind and sea against us, 
and we might have been breakfast for the fishes but for a 

* Victorian English for clothes." My French translator is 
earnestly requested not to construe this word as " choses." 

209 O 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



French cargo -ship which happened to catch sight of the 
phght we were in, and which lowered a boat and came to 
our rescue. With difficulty we transhipped ourselves, 
and then discovered that it was impossible to land with- 
out a surf-boat. 

At this moment rose a friend in need. A Hungarian, 
named Halle, the proprietor of the Hotel du Pare, had 
been looking out to sea, as is his wont, when he 
descried the operations just recorded, and, with the 
promptitude and indifference to personal risk and dis- 
comfort which ever distinguish the sterling man of 
action from the felis farta or stuffed cat (worthily repre- 
sented on this occasion by Messrs. Cook's agent), he 
rapidly manned a surf-boat, and, springing into it himself, 
piloted her through the breakers and between the reefs 
to the little cargo-boat in which we were tossing — safe 
enough, but not very clear as to our next step. Tran- 
shipped again, not without difficulty, we rounded the 
reef, keeping as close to the rocks as possible, and 
eventually gained the quay and landed. But our troubles 
were by no means ended. The Turkish officer of cus- 
toms with a posse of underlings barred our way. Un- 
fortunately, in the hurry of departure we had forgotten 
our pratique. Moreover, Jus had stupidly lost his pass- 
port. Land, we must not. Were the people of Jaffa to be 
decimated by plague for the sake of a handful of English- 
men ? Allah forbid ! We must return to the yacht, or, 
for the matter of that, to the bottom of the sea. 

One of the party — I think it was Clare — shouted 
Beauseant ! " at the top of his voice, but the cry seemed 
to have lost its old rallying-power. Not a soul arrayed 
himself on our side. We looked in vain for the white 

2 10 



Turkish Welcome at Joppa 

mantle and the red cross. What has become of the 
grand old vow of the Knights Templars to maintain free 
and open passage for all pilgrims visiting the sacred land 
of milk and honey ? AVhere are the Pauper Soldiers of 
the Holy City ? Alas ! five hundred years ago, and more, 
they lapsed into the ancient worship of the Golden Calf, 
or, what comes to the same thing, they sank under the 
charge. The Knights of St. John, the warrior-priests 
with the black mantle and the white cross, they too are 
gone. Did they also worship the Golden Calf? He 
would be a bold man who would acquit them, after 
exploring the Church of St. John and the Palace of the 
Grand Masters at Malta and all the proceeds of gioja." 
Let them rest in peace down in Limbo among the 
remnants and wreckage of battered superstitions and the 
debris of moribund creeds. The Temple stronghold in 
Paris, and our own little Temple in London, which was 
built by Henry II. in imitation of the temple near the 
Holy Sepulchre, remain to us as monuments of a strange 
bygone age — the age of Caliphs and Crusaders and 
Assassins ; of Godefroy de Bouillon, of Saladin, of 
Richard Lion-heart, of Saint Louis, and of the Old Man 
of the Mountain. 

Leo now dozes and mumbles in the chair in which 
Clement V. raged and thundered, and the throne of the 
genial Harun the Just lies trampled under the feet of 
Abdul the Assassin. So we must shift for ourselves. 
Clare was in favour of signalling for our six and thirty 
mariners bold, and at once driving the Turk out, bag 
and baggage. But Jus counselled patience. Give him 
still five years' probation," he pleaded. "We require 
reinforcements." And his counsel prevailed. 

213 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



•'Cannot one man fetch the papers from the yacht, 
and the rest remam on shore ? demanded Halle. " Cer- 
tainly not ; they must all remain in the sea,'" replied the 
obdurate official. Besides/" thought each man of the 
party, '"'who is the one?*'" There rode the Maria, 2i 
good mile and a half off. The wind was still rising. 
Then came a voice uttering words more blessed than the 
balm of Gilead, and falhng like the sweet South on the 
seared hearts of the wet and weary Britishers. It was 
the voice of Halle. " Look here,"' he cried : " one is 
better than all ; I will go and fetch the pratique, and you 
can all tumble into that barge until I return.'"'" There 
rocked the dirty barge, moored by the head. Into the 
surf-boat we all stepped, and so to the barge, where, damp 
and ridiculous, we rose and fell till Halle and his men 
returned triumphantly with the proof that we were none 
of us afflicted with plague or leprosy. The passport was 
still missing, but, by dint of a little ducking and dodging, 
one passport was made to serve for two, and we reached 
the Hotel du Pare and imbibed caloric in the form of 
yellow wine. 

^Meantime, our deliverers were promptly flung into 
prison, one and all, and it was not until the Com. had 
signed a solemn affidavit before the British Consul 
testifying that we were in peril of our lives when Halle 
and his men put to sea that they were released, with a 
caution never again to be too zealous in succouring 
Englishmen without first examining their papers. Only a 
few days before, another Englishman had under similar 
circumstances been himself confined in a Turkish 
prison for twenty-four hours. I do not think any of 
the crew had cause to regret their temporary incar- 

214 



Turkish Welcome at Joppa 

ceration, for the Com., as the saying is, has his Uttle 
ways. 

If it was an unhappy accident that brought us to the 
Hotel du Pare, it was at all events a happy circumstance 
that we were there. It commands the finest views of 
Joppa, and stands in the best position. The brothers 
Halle turned out to be great travellers, not only in 
Europe, but in America, and they thoroughly understand 
what English and American travellers appreciate. The 
hotel is furnished with comforts and conveniences, for 
which as a rule one may look in vain in Oriental houses, 
and the cooking is excellent, as we had good reason to 
know, and to be thankful for. 

Mr. David Halle, our deliverer, as we called him, after- 
wards accompanied us to Jerusalem, and his local know- 
ledge was of great service to us, pressed as we w^ere for 
time. The brothers, like most Hungarians, are good 
judges of horses, and they rattled us over the undulating 
Syrian roads at a pace that would make an English 
coachman's hair stand on end. 

I ought to mention that our luggage had in the mean- 
time got into the hands of Messrs. Cook's Syrian agent, 
who, having done nothing to help us, carefully hurried it 
off to the Jerusalem Hotel, presided over by his friend 
Mr. Hardegg, who discharges the duties of American 
Vice-Consul at Joppa. Oddly enough, that gentleman, 
whom the Warrior most improperly christened Mr. Hard- 
boiled Egg, took a very different view of the Syrian's 
conduct from that taken by the British Consul — a fact 
which cannot be explained by reference to his nationality, 
since the brothers Halle are both American citizens, 
upon whom American travellers will do well to call, if 

215 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



they ^\ish their sojourn in Palestine to be rendered pro- 
fitable and pleasant. I believe they contemplate building 
a good hotel in Jerusalem. There is certainly room for 
one. 

Talking of Americans, Orlando one day remarked, 
"These Yankees are all over the show, bragging and 
swaggering as if the world belonged to them. They 
qaite forget that they were once only a pack of runaways 
and rebels.'"' "Rot!" ejaculated the Literary Failure, 
utterly regardless of that classical English which charac- 
terises his utterances when in classical company, *'rot ! 
do you expect the descendants of the Mayflowe)- to 
knuckle down to the descendants of those who stayed at 
home and paid ship-money ? " 

" Oh, you are always against your own country when it 
suits your argument, but none can be more patriotic on 
occasions. What were you saying only yesterday about 
the English occupation of Egypt, and the glorious 
British flag ? What were you saying about the Sandwich 
Islands ? " Quite so," replied Jus ; " Em solid on the 
Union Jack, because it is the flag of freedom, of free 
trade all the world over, of a fair field and no favour. 
That is why : and not for any paleozoic reason whatever. 
If the star-spangled banner meant freedom, as it some 
day will, I would fight under it as readily as under the 
Union Jack." 

" Ah, free trade, that's another of your fads : you would 
see every farmer in England starve for the sake of that 
cranky notion. Why, it's out of date. Ask the Com."' 
-'AMU be," the Com. interjected, '^'when water flows up 
hill." " You are all against me, of course," pleaded the 
Warrior : "but I say the British flag has nothing to do 

216 



Turkish Welcome at Joppa 

with free trade ; it means the orderly and honest govern- 
ment of all the races that come under it." 

It was now the 'Varsity Man's turn to cut in. And 
what right have you, what right have the English, to 
force weaker races to conform to British ideas of law and 
order ? I call it downright bullying." " Nonsense," 
shouted the Warrior ; " don't you believe it — f/iey like it'' 
" Well, you ought to know, you are one of them," retorted 
Clare with a malicious allusion to the Warrior's birth- 
place at Llanwyddlanellipontyfechan. " Go ho7i with 
you," replied that gentleman with his sweetest smile ; for 
to tell the truth he was rather proud of the gallant little 
principality. And then the subject dropped; but the 
Union Jack went on flying all over the two hemispheres 
just as though nothing had occurred. 

Says Baedeker : The meaning of the ancient name 
Joppa is doubtful." Don't you believe him. It means 
nothing of the sort. It is the name of the daughter of 
^olus, the King of the Winds ; and her daughter, the 
famous Andromeda, was chained to a rock on this very 
spot, for a horrible sea monster to devour. But Perseus 
came and saved her. That was very nice of Perseus. 
So thought the Warrior. Now, was it?" asked the 
Hon. Sec. ; " suppose the lady bound to the rock had 
been the one that sat by you at dinner last night — the 
one with the leather face and projecting tusks — would 
Perseus have risked his life for her then ? " " Lord 
knows," growled Orlando : I'll take my oath I 
wouldn't." I think he would," said Clare. " I have 
no doubt the leather-faced lady does quite as much 
good, and is alogether as worthy a person as ever 
Andromeda was, and why should she not be saved ? " 

217 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



' That is just where you make a mistake,'' chipped in 
the Literary Failure with his detestable, cold-blooded 
philosophy : "4: is ]\Ian's duty to preserve and protect 
Beauty, on the principle of the survival of the fittest. If 
heroes risked their lives for the sake of hideous hags as 
readily as for beauties like Andromeda, then you ought 
to marry the ughest girl in the parish/'' ^' Well, I 
always make a point/" persisted Clare, " of dancing with 
the plainest girl in the room, because she gets so few 
partners, poor thing."" " In that case," replied Jus, " you 
selfishly gratify your own sympathetic faculty to the detri- 
ment of the race : you ought to leave the plain girl 
severely alone : and so you all do when it comes to 
marrying and not merely galumphing round the ball- 
room."" But if everybody made beauty a sine qua 7ion 
the plain girls would never get husbands at all." " Quite 
so — the elimination of the unfit," was the reply. " And 
what right have you to call people unfit who may be 
clever, or self-denying, or accomplished, merely because 
they are not good-looking ? "" " Because, ex hypothesi, 
they are not /f/ to be seen. Look here, my dear fellow," 
he continued. I feel as you do ; I am irresistibly drawn 
towards ugly people : pity is akin to love ; it is with the 
greatest difficulty that I tear myself away from them, 
and seek the company of the fair : but I am sustained in 
my efiforts by a consciousness of rectitude." "That will 
do," the Warrior interrupted, "about your blooming 
rectitude." " Confound Andromeda," said the Com. 
" Are you all ready to go and see Tabitha's house ? " 
" No," replied Clare doggedly. 

"I see from the guide-books that there's a place 
called Yafa near here that we ought to see,"' the Warrior 

2lS 



Turkish Welcome at Joppa 

said, looking up from his Baedeker. He did not often 
consult Baedeker, whom he regarded as a bit of a 
dullard. The rest of the party looked at him to make 
sure that he was pulling no man's leg, and then they 
looked at one another, and then they gave way to 
unseemly hilarity." Orlando turned red. "What's 
the matter now ? " he exclaimed, but the laughter only 
increased in violence. 

To do Baedeker justice, he devotes a good deal of 
space to the German Colony, as it is called. It consists 
of a crowd of broken-down Teutons who some thirty 
years ago emigrated to Joppa with the object of 
regenerating society, but who, after failing in their 
laudable object, and splitting up into as many sects 
as there were individuals among them (viz., about one 
thousand), drifted into the orange business, in which they 
are fairly successful. Y ou can buy Jaffa oranges on the 
spot at the rate of about half a dozen for a penny, 
whereas the converts they manufactured were not worth 
a guinea a box, as the Hon. Sec. pointed out with his 
accustomed eye to business. 

The so-called "places of interest to the tourist" are 
not numerous. After driving through some slums to the 
Jerusalem Gate, or rather the place where the Jerusalem 
Gate was, and after passing a varied assortment of ceme- 
teries and seminaries, hospices and cafes, churches and 
nondescripts — French, German, Russian, Enghsh, Arab, 
Jewish, and Armenian — we finally arrive at Tabitha's 
house, or again (as one is compelled to say) the place 
where Tabitha's house was, or may have been. 

'•'Who was Tabitha?" whispered the Com. to the 
Hon. Sec. " Heaven knows," whispered the latter in 

219 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

return; '"'ask me another." Other members of the party, 
lacking the requisite moral courage, maintained a discreet 
silence, but resolved to look her out on the earliest 
opportunity in a biographical dictionary. Another 
equally famous house is pointed out by the inhabi- 
tants — namely, that of Simon the tanner. Unfortu- 
nately, they are at variance as to the precise spot. 
Some say the Latin Hospital stands on the site, while 
others maintain that the tannery originally stood on the 
plot of land now occupied by a shady little mosque 
near the Hghthouse at the other end of the town. In 
neither place is there a vestige of a house or a tannery, 
but careful excavation may some day reveal the sar- 
cophagus of Simon himself. The long and the short of 
it is that Joppa contains many relics of the days of the 
Crusades and of other stirring times, but nothing whatever 
dating back to the Year One. 



220 



CHAPTER XI 

THE STRONGHOLD OF ZION 

The journey from Joppa to Jerusalem, says the guide- 
book, " can be done by carriage or on horseback." 
Excellent well ! That was in 1890. We decided to do 
it by rail, and thanks to the French we succeeded. One 
cannot sufficiently admire the engineering energy of the 
French. Wherever we go we meet with the enduring 
testimonies of their generous labours. Whether it be 
Corsica with its mountain railway, or Tunis with its 
renovated Goletta Canal, or the still grander canal from 
the Mediterranean to the Red Sea, or the enterprising 
railway through the rocky hills of Judaea, the track of 
these true sons of Rome is strewn with their noble 
works. Englishmen are far too apt to magnify their 
own enterprise at the expense of their neighbours. As 
political and commercial pioneers Englishmen may 
justly claim the first place. But a couple of thousand 
years hence the future historian will have some difficulty 
in pointing to any evidences of English rule comparable 
with the noble monuments of the French. In truth, if 
we are the Phoenicians of the nineteenth century, the 
French are the Romans. I do not say that our labours 
are not so beneficent : all I say is that they are not 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



so enduring or so manifest to the eye. I have the 
fullest sympathy with our Gallic brethren in regard to 
the African and Syrian shores of the ^Mediterranean. 
They have done far more than we have to reclaim 
that vast territory to civilization. We, represented by 
Lord Palmerston, did our utmost to obstruct the building 
of the Suez Canal, and now we control it and profit by 
it. The Frenchmian's dream of a Greater France is a 
rational and righteous one. Like Russia, France desires 
elbow-room for legitimate expansion. From Morocco 
on the west to the shores of the Red Sea on the east 
stretches her heritage, facing her own southern coast. 
She claims it by the right of occupancy and honest work 
done. And if it were not for the selfish and shortsighted 
obstinacy of her politicians, none could better than she 
be entrusted with the peaceful development of that fair 
region. Alas, the tricolour does not yet mean Freedom ! 
And it must not be. 

After five hours' journey through barren, rocky, and 
desolate scenery, we reached Jerusalem. This de- 
scription does not of course apply to Joppa and its 
immediate vicinity, which is a rich and smihng garden 
of orange-trees, whose fragrance is wafted for miles 
inland and across the sea. You can scent Joppa from 
afar, like the bean-fields of England and the mignonette 
of California. But Jerusalem stands on the summit of 
a stony plateau about as high as Skiddaw, and the 
change from Egypt's sunny sands to the wet and windy 
heights of Jebus was somewhat sudden and unpleasant. 

"At four," as the Com. recorded in his journal, "it 
ceased raining and began to pelt ; at five it ceased 
pelting and began to pour in torrents ; at six it ceased 



STREET IX JERUSALJtM 



The Stronghold of Zion 

pouring in torrents, and then there was no name for it." 
Heaven help the wretches who were out in it ! " They 
hadn't a dog's chance." But apart from the weather, 
I suppose the city of Jerusalem is the filthiest in the 
world, with the single and doubtful exception of 
Constantinople. The Turk and the Syrian Jew are 
not clean animals, and the Armenian is little better. 
The streets are ankle-deep in the foulest mire, and so 
narrow that when the donkeys and mules come along in 
single file with their burdens the pedestrian must stand 
with his back to the wall to let them pass. There seem 
to be no sanitary arrangements of any kind. Most of 
the houses have neither windows nor chimneys. I need 
hardly say that wheel traffic is out of the question, not 
only because of the straitness of the way, but also 
because many of the principal streets are a long suc- 
cession of steps. 

Let me say at once, that from the point of view 
of the Christian antiquarian, the scenes and sights of 
Jerusalem are, almost without exception, vulgar, gro- 
tesque, ridiculous, and even disgusting. Saving the 
ground on which it stands, there is not a single authentic 
relic or memorial of the days of Christ. True, there are 
several Golgothas or Calvaries, a couple of Pools of 
Bethesda, two Holy Sepulchres, two sites of the Pre- 
torium, and a dozen or so of most of the houses and 
places mentioned in the New Testament. Most of them 
are impossible, and badly selected even for the purposes 
of a pious fraud. Then you are shown the tomb of 
Lazarus, and the house of Mary and Martha at Ikthany, 
and the footprint of Christ in the solid stone. At 
Bethlehem is the manger — made of inai-ble ! l^>vcn your 

225 p 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



guide soon wearies of saying, " This is supposed to be 
so and-so," and he settles down by your permission 
into the dogmatic affirmative, after premising that there 
is not a word of truth in all he is about to relate. And 
this is the proper spirit in which to approach the sacred 
spots of the Holy City. By the way, the Arabic name 
of the place, "El Kuds," also signifies the Holy Place; 
and there are as many vestiges and monuments of the 
life of ]vIahomet as of the Hfe of Jesus. 

Pointing one day to the Mount of Olives, I inquired 
of a picturesque old Jew whether it was the hill of the 
Ascension. 

"One of them,''' he replied. 

" Which is the other ? I asked. 

"Mahomet,'" said he with a smile, "ascended from 
Mount Moriah." 

On reaching the platform called the Haram, we were 
treated by a chance tourist to the following passage from 
his guide-book : " We now stand on one of the most 
profoundly interesting spots in the world ; it was about 
this spot where David erected an altar." " Dear me," 
said the tourist, burning with enthusiasm, " only think 
of it ! " Having only just left Thebes, where Rameses 
and his predecessors had erected the still majestic 
temples of Karnak and Luxor some five centuries earlier, 
our hearts did not respond to the thrill : more especially 
as not a splinter of the supposed altar remains, nor is 
the precise spot known to within a furlong. 

Still the Haram claims attention for other and better 
reasons. Here once stood the gorgeous temple built 
by Hiram of Tyre for his wealthy friend Solomon. And 
here stands to-day one of the most remarkable buildings 

'226 



The Stronghold of Zion 



in the world, both in appearance and by reason of its 
associations — the Dome of the Rock, or, as unbeHevers 
call it, the Mosque of Omar. I prefer to err with the 
faithful for once, for there stands the dome, and beneath 
it lies the rock, whereas there is no evidence that the 
Khalif Omar had anything to do with it. Nor had he 
either the power or the will to erect such a building. If 
we can attach any credence to the statements of the 
Emperor Constantine, this is the real Holy Sepulchre of 
Christ. It was built in the fourth century, and its 
sombre magnificence is unsurpassed by any building 
of post-classical times. It is an octagon of i6o feet 
in diameter, supported by pillars of the rarest marbles. 
The rock itself stands about five feet above the level of 
the surrounding pavement of marble, and on one corner 
of it is still to be seen the footprint of Mahomet as he 
he left the world on his famous visit to heaven. The 
Warrior was irreverent enough to call it his " kick-off." 
I was myself a little perplexed by it, for I was always 
taught that the prophet ascended on ass-back, whereas 
the print is that of a human foot. In another part of 
the rock we see the hand-print of Gabriel, who, when the 
rock, in its anxiety to follow Mahomet, was rising out of 
its place, thought fit to hold it down by force. I do not 
wish to be irreverent, but I must protest that a rock 
which showed such noble aspirations and such a spirit 
of daring should not have been thrust back to earth at 
the mere caprice of an archangel. 

Whether this grand temple is really the work of Con- 
stantine, or whether it owes much of its magnificence to 
Khalif Abd-el-Mehk, is an unsettled point. There is 
certainly much Arabic art in it. 

229 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Some members of our party were prevailed on to 
cast a few piastres into a basin as the price of eternal 
happiness — for so we were told; but Clare scoffed, and 
Jus said he thought he would save his pocket-money for 
poker, and risk it. 

It is a melancholy reflection, and a humiliating one, 
too, that after all the blood and treasure lavished on the 
Crusades, the tomb of Christ (or, at all events, the oldest 
tomb which can lay any claim to the distinction) should 
form the site of a ]\Iahommedan mosque : but it is still 
more painful to know that Turkish soldiers are com- 
pelled to keep guard at the Bethlehem ]\Ianger to prevent 
the rival sects of his worshippers from cutting each 
others' throats. Yet so it is. The Christians of the 
Holy City are far the most degraded fraction of the 
populace, and we actually met Turkish troops entering 
the town in readiness for the customary riots by which 
Christmas Day is signalised. The Jews hate the Mahom- 
medans ; both hate and despise the Christians ; but 
their united hate is as charity itself compared with the 
hatred with which the Christians hate one another. 
Latins, Greeks, and Armenians alike seem to wallow in a 
slough of religious bigotry and intolerance fouler even 
than the mire in which their bodies stew. The jangle of 
bells, by which they announced their rival festivals, 
became at one time such an intolerable nuisance to 
peaceful citizens, who cared for none of these things, 
that the authorities were compelled to step in, and now, 
outside the Armenian church, hangs a gigantic gong, 
which Armenian ingenuity substituted for the prohibited 
bells. It booms away to the annoyance and envy of the 
Greek and Latin Christians, who, however, meditate 



The Stronghold of Zion 

reprisals in the form of steam sirens and monster clatter • 
rattles. No wonder respectable citizens hate the pork- 
eating canaille I 

The history of Jerusalem is not the history of art, 
science, or civilization. It is the history of bloodshed 
and fanaticism. When first heard of, it is in possession 
of a Phoenician tribe by whom it was called Jebus. 
David, the king of the Hebrews, came up and laid siege 
to it. But the Jebusites called to him from the walls, 
" So long as there is a blind man or a cripple left within, 
you cannot enter." " Nevertheless, David entered and 
took the stronghold of Zion; the same is the City of 
David." This stronghold seems to have been regarded 
as impregnable by its successive occupants : 

" But John P. 
Robinson, he 

Says, ' They didn't know everythin' down in Judee.' " 

And the truth is that no stronghold was ever much less 
defensible than that of Zion. In the days of David's 
grandson it fell before Shishak, king of Egypt. A cen- 
tury later it was stormed by the Philistines. After another 
sixty years Jehoash and the IsraeHtes entered in triumph. 
Some years later it capitulated to Nebuchadnezzar of 
Babylon, when the Temple of Solomon was burnt to the 
ground. In the fourth century B.C. it yielded to 
Alexander the Great. Afterwards Pompey, the Roman, 
forced his way in and desecrated the new temple ; and 
in the memorable year 70 a.d. Titus stormed the town, 
burnt Herod's third temple, crucified a number of Jews, 
put many to the sword, and sold the rest into slavery. 
On this occasion the town was utterly annihilated. On 
the ruins of its foundations Hadrian built the city of 

233 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Aelia, v;hich Jews were forbidden to enter. It sub- 
sequently fell before the Persians, and again before the 
Byzantine Greeks : and in 637 it was captured by the 
Arabs under Omar. The Franks, as the Crusaders were 
called, held it for about eighty-eight years, from 1099 to 
11S7, "^vhen it was retaken by Saladin, only to fall a prey 
to the Turks in 1244. 

Who were these Hebrevrs who lived at Jebus for over 
a thousand years ? ]sIanetho, the Egyptian historian who 
lived in the tune of the Great Alexander, calls them 
Arabs. He also calls them Phcenicians. On the high 
authority of Mr. Po:de, we learn that Abraham's visit to 
Egypt coincides with the Hyksos invasion. The most 
probable derivation of Hyksos seems to be from Huk^ a 
foreigner, and Sos^ a shepherd. Though Huk originally 
meant a slave or captive, it came to be used as a term of 
contempt for foreigners in general. This was about a 
thousand years before David. When we remember how 
the migrations of ancient peoples were narrated by the 
earliest chroniclers as the travels of individual heroes, 
we shall have little difticulty in identifying the Hyksos 
with the patriarch Abraham. 

This Semit'c people appears to have come from the 
shores of the Red Sea and Persian Gulf; but earlier 
still, judging from their religion and their mental traits, 
rather than from their language, one would surmise that 
the Hebrews, who bear a strong resemblance to the 
Turks, were a tribe of invaders from the North — one of 
the early waves of the migratory hordes which ever and 
anon burst the boundaries of Central Asia, and poured 
down into the richer and happier lands of the south : 
just as in later times we have seen Genghis Khan with 

234 



The Stronghold of Zion 

his Mongol myrmidons invading Syria and Persia, 
through Samarcand and Bokhara ; and a century later 
Tamerlane the Terrible. Similarly, in the thirteenth and 
fourteenth centuries, Solyman, Othman (the founder of 
the Ottoman Empire) Amurath, and Bajazet, with their 
Turkish soldiers, became the terror of the peaceful and 
prosperous inhabitants of Southern Asia. Between 
these w^arriors, with their black eyes and hooked noses, 
their ferocity and sombre sensuality, their suspiciousness 
and intolerance of foreigners, and, above all, their grim 
fanaticism — between them and the Hebrew^s there is a 
remarkably strong affinity. From Tartary they brought 
with them their worship of the yak or primitive ox. As 
herdsmen rather than agriculturists, their totems w^ould 
naturally be Apis, Baal, Moloch^ or Yakh, the Ox-god. 
During a sojourn of some centuries among the highly 
civilized Egyptians, their superstitions would undergo 
considerable amendment and purification ; and, w^hile 
they left the worship of Apis as a legacy to the Egyp- 
tians, they no doubt carried away with them, on their 
expulsion by Aahmes (Amasis the Great) a highly con- 
ventionalised and elevated form of their pristine religion ; 
one which so able and learned a leader as Moses might 
reasonably hope to convert by degrees into a simple 
monotheism. This noble goal seems never to have 
been actually reached ; and throughout the entire history 
of this dismal race in Palestine, the old w^orship of Baal 
held its own w^ith varying success against the newer and 
purer religion of the great lawgiver. If the worst vice of 
the Jew w^as his fanatical hatred of the foreigner, his 
greatest virtue was its natural concomitant — strong and 
even maudlin patriotism. To this day we may find (and 

237 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



we did find) a posse of blubbering old men bewailing the 
fall of the temple, at a place called the Jews' Waihng 
Place, where three or four layers of stones may possibly 
have once formed a part of Herod's Temple, or even 
of the second temple built after the Babylonian Cap- 
tivity. \ye were told, I cannot say with what truth, that 
a certain number of Jewish families are even now on 
the road between Babylon and Jerusalem — a month's 
journey — having only just discovered that the Captivity 
is over, and that they are at liberty to return to their 
native land. But it seems hardly credible. At all events, 
there does not appear to be any very marked tendency 
among the Jews of Western Europe to follow their home- 
sick example. The fleshpots of Egypt were magnetic 
even in 1500 B.C. 1 

We do not look for the old Latin cosmogony among 
the beliefs of the Romans after their conquest of Greece, 
but among the ancient fables of the days of the Kings, 
when dancing priests propitiated Mars and the Vestal 
Virgins kept alight the holy fire. Similarly we must look 
for the original Hebrew legends, not to the books of 
Ezra and Xehemiah, but to the older traditions of the 
Arabs. The former are manifestly toned down into the 
semblance of historical events, and woven into the beau- 
tiful fabric of pure monotheism, which had been engrafted 
on an older faith by ]\Ioses and Amen-hetep IV. The 
latter are wilder and more extraordinary, and bear all 
the marks of greater antiquity. They were preserved in 
their original form by the uncivilized nomad tribes of 
Arabia, for centuries after they had come to be regarded 
as too grotesque to suit the taste of the more cultured 
people of Judcea. Mahomet took them as he found 

238 



The Stronghold of Zion 



them, and embodied them in the Koran. There were 
five archangels : Gabriel, Michael, Azrael, Azraphel, and 
Satan. Below them was a whole hierarchy of angels. 
Between angels and men were two intermediate races — 
the Gins and the Peris. The Gins (Chinese?) ruled for 
seven thousand years ; and the Peris (Persians ?) two 
thousand years. Then came Adam. In riches, power, 
and magnificence the Gins and Peris surpassed every- 
thing that Adam's race experienced, but their pride at 
last provoked the wrath of the Almighty. Satan was 
ordered to exterminate them. He destroyed many, and 
drove the rest to the caves beneath Kaf — the mountain 
which supports the sky. One of the Gins carried off with 
him the enchanted shield, graven with seven mystic signs, 
which entitled its holder to the throne of the world. Adam 
pursued him into his cave, wrested from him the magic 
shield, and hid it away in the island of Serendib (Ceylon ?), 
where it was long afterwards discovered by Kaiomers, 
king of Persia, who therefore became the ruler of the 
Eastern world. So far, the Persian and Arabian legends 
seem to agree. Then the shield was lost, and both Gins 
and Persians were conquered by Solomon, the son of 
David, who forced them to build his mighty forts and 
walls. And from that day to this the Gins have ceased 
to trouble mankind. In all this there is clearly a 
legendary history. 

To return to Adam. Satan, being puffed up with his 
victory over the Gins, refused to do homage to Adam, 
the holder of the shield, whereupon he was driven from 
heaven, and the faithful angels threw great stones after 
him. Hence the Moslem prayer, " God preserve me 
from Satan the Stoned." A nimbus beamed from the 

241 Q 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



brow of Adam, which has ever smce played round the 
head of the successive prophets of God. When he died 
he was buried at ^lecca, but Noah took the body with 
him into the Ark, and it was afterwards taken to Jerusalem 
by Melchizedek. The nimbus descended upon Seth, 
and then upon Edris (Enoch). This great prophet 
invented pens, needles, mathematics, and magic. Noah 
succeeded to the nimbus. Eighty persons (not eight) 
were saved in the Ark, but they did not include Noah's 
wife, Waila, who perished in the flood. 

Here follows a statement of great interest for the 
ethnologist. All the vices of the world were practised 
by the sons of Japheth ; while all the virtues were pre- 
served by the descendants of Shem. Seeing that the 
Arabs were themselves what was understood by sons of 
Japheth,"" that is, they were descendants of the old 
Egyptian race, this doctrine must have been imposed 
upon them from without, by the conquering Hyksos^ or 
''sons of Shem.'" They would not have invented it of 
their own accord. 

Then arose Shedad, the wicked king of Arabia, who 
planted a garden and filled it with every delight. His 
subjects were so intoxicated with the pleasures of the 
garden that they gratefully worshipped Shedad as a god. 
But the prophet Hud came and reproved them, and they 
laughed at him and drove him out ; whereupon a black 
cloud came, and out of the cloud a pestilent wind that 
raged for seven days, and utterly destroyed all the people, 
except those who believed in Hud. The ruined city of 
Shedad is still sometimes, but rarely, to be seen. After 
Hud came the prophet Saleh ; but when he announced 
himself, the people asked for a sign, whereupon he smote 

242 



1 



The Stronghold of Zion 

a rock, and it was rent asunder, and a she-camel came 
forth. Then the incredulous people hamstrung the she- 
camel and her young ones, and mocked Saleh, so an 
earthquake swallowed them up; all except those who 
believed in Saleh ; and they went and settled at Mecca. 
Abraham was the next prophet, and certainly one of the 
most remarkable. When he was a baby, we are told, he 
sucked two of his fingers. There is nothing very re- 
markable about that, but what is really extraordinary is 
that out of one finger flowed rich milk, and out of the 
other honey. He was brought up to worship the starry 
host, as all his fellow countrymen were, but he thought 
that one must needs be stronger than any of the others 
and fit to be worshipped more than they. Venus 
appeared to be the biggest, so he worshipped her, until 
he observed that she set ; when he exclaimed, " I like 
not gods that fade away." He then asked his father for 
advice in the matter, and that prudent courtier recom- 
mended him to worship the king — Nimrod. Abraham 
therefore called at the Court, and beheld an old man, 
horribly deformed. He felt sure that such a being could 
not have created a world full of beauty and grandeur, 
and so returned home and worshipped the Unknown 
God. The prophetic nimbus immediately beamed from 
his brows, and he preached the doctrine of Islam — that 
is. Resignation. 

His first act of devotion seems to have been what we 
should call a lie. Having smashed all the idols in the 
house during his father's absence he was called to 
account for the wreckage. An old woman called, said 
he, bringing an offering of fine flour, and the idols fell to 
quarrelling over it, and knocked each other to pieces. 

245 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

Azar, his father, beUeved in the idols, but not in their 
power to fight ; so he haled his impious son before the 
king, who had him flung into a fiery furnace ; but the 
furnace turned into a bower of roses, and Abraham 
w^alked out unsinged. This was at Babylon. God then 
told Abraham to go to Jerusalem, and there, in order to 
try his faith, he commanded him to offer up his son 
Ishmael, w^ho is always called " The Offering." Here the 
Arabs and Jews difi'er, the latter maintaining that Isaac 
w^as the Offering. The prophetic radiance passed from 
Isaac to Jacob and from Jacob to Joseph, of whom the 
Arabs tell us much more than the Jews. Potiphar's 
wife w^as named Zuleikha. When she was upbraided by 
the ladies of the Court for falling in love with a slave 
she took her revenge by inviting them all to a feast, 
to w^hich she also invited Joseph ; and so agitated were 
they all by his wonderful beauty that their hands shook, 
and they cut their fingers instead of the pomegranates. 
After Potiphar's death Joseph married Zuleikha, and all 
was well. The sacred nimbus passed through Shoaib to 
his son-in-law Moses, who had been adopted when an 
infant by the Pharaoh himself and his wife under 
peculiar circumstances. His mother, Nagiah, a kins- 
w^oman of the Pharaoh, mistrusting her suspicious 
relative, put her child into a little ark of papyrus, 
covered with pitch and lined with cotton-wool, and 
committed him to the Nile ; by w^hom he w^as washed 
up into a fish-pond in the king's garden. After his 
adoption the infant behaved rudely to his adoptive 
father, pulling him by the beard. Whereat the king 
w^as wrath and w^ould have killed him, but the queen 
said : " How can you blame a babe which could not tell 

246 



The Stronghold of Zion 

a ruby from a red-hot coal ? " Try," retorted the king, 
and this being done, Moses chose the red-hot coal, and 
put it in his mouth — a circumstance which is said to 
account for the impediment in his speech. Modern 
critics attribute it to the fact that, although he spoke 
excellent Egyptian, his Hebrew was not good. He was 
afterwards condemned to death on another occasion, but 
when the executioner brought down the axe, Moses' 
neck was suddenly turned to ivory, and the axe re- 
bounding slew the executioner. After this the Hebrew 
and Arabic accounts of his doings tally fairly well, till 
we come to the episode of the Golden Calf. In the 
biblical narrative, as we all remember, Aaron melted the 
gold and fashioned it into the form of a calf with a 
graving tool, but according to the Arabs, when the gold 
was melted it moulded itself in the form of a calf 
without any assistance from Aaron. This seems the 
more probable version, for what need was there for a 
graving tool after the calf was moulded ? 

Of Kedher, upon whom the prophetic aureole next 
descended, the Jews have nothing to tell us ; the Arabs 
a great deal, but he is believed by many to be no other 
than Elijah. Of Job the two accounts agree in the 
main, except that, according to the Arabian chroniclers, 
he appears to have been guilty of what we should call a 
shuffle. It seems that Satan told Rhamat, Job's wife, 
that if she would fall down and worship him, all their 
prosperity should at once return. Job was so much 
enraged when Rhamat proposed to do this tliat he 
vowed he would scourge her with a hundred stri[)es //he 
got better. When the time came, however, he ta])ped 
her once with a palm-branch having a hundred leaves, 

247 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



and so fulfilled his vow. We may admire his humanity 
more than his probity. 

From Job, after long obscuration, the holy light fell 
upon David and then upon Solomon, of whom the most 
astonishing stories are told. Most of these are un- 
mentioned in the Hebrew historical books. Here the 
genuine, Arabic legends seem to come to a stop. The 
light passed on to Jesus, after whom no prophet arose 
till Mahomed. So all good Mahommedans assert; and 
this period is called the Interval. From that day to 
this there has been a succession of Imams, from whose 
temples the light has radiated, though the sects disagree 
as to their number (the Shiites say twelve). But the 
controversy, having passed entirely out of the hands 
both of Arabians and Hebrews, does not concern us 
here. I believe the present Aiahdi is the last holder, 
according to the Arabs of Upper Egypt and the 
Soudan. 

I will conclude this meagre summary of Hebro- 
Arabian traditions by reminding my anti-vivisecticnist 
friends that a corner has been found in heaven for five 
of the lower animals, of whom three are asses, one a 
ram, and only one a dog. They are Balaam's ass, the ass 
on w^hich Jesus rode to Jerusalem, the ass Al-borak, 
which carried Mahomet to heaven, the ram which 
allowed itself to be caught and sacrificed in the stead 
of Ishmael, and the good old bow-wow Katmir, who 
watched over the Seven Sleepers for two hundred 
years. 

I have indulged myself in this digression at the 
imminent risk of wearying some readers and offending 
others, because I befieve that the earliest history of races 

2.18 



The Stronghold of Zion 



and their migrations is more likely to be found in their 
traditionary legends than in their language. In all the 
above there is nothing that bears much resemblance to 
Greek or Roman mythology; but those who are con- 
versant with the mythical stories of the Turks and 
Tartars — of Buzengir and his mother Alancona, of the 
Niron, or Children of Light, and the Dirlighin, or human 
Moguls — will mark some striking parallels between the 
Tartar and Semitic legends. Genghis Khan himself, the 
ninth in succession from Buzengir, claimed to be de- 
scended from Noah, through Japhet, Turk, Mogol, 
Kara, Oguz, Tchoubine, and Alancona, Beloved of the 
Sun. However, having offered my apology, I must leave 
this interesting field of inquiry to the serious student 
and proceed with my own trifling observations, for what 
they may be worth. 

As I have said, there is nothing whatever in Jerusalem, 
beyond the configuration of the earth's surface, to show 
that it was ever in the possession of the Hebrew nation. 
They have left not a single monument of their most 
uninteresting career save the crumbling foundations of a 
fortress that succumbed to every invader, and some sad 
tales of the sordid and sensual rulers of a spiritless and 
uninventive people. At the same time, the traveller 
who is prepared to subdue the rebellious and sceptical 
spirit of modern criticism will find, as we did, much to 
interest him. In the mosque of El Aksa, not far from 
Christ's footprint, he will see two columns, through which, 
it is said, no one born out of wedlock can pass. The 
reader may smile at this, but I can assure him that it is 
true ; for between the two columns some one has erected 
an iron screen. Then at Easter Eve, if he is fortunate 

251 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



enough to be in the Holy City on that day, he will 
witness an extraordinary phenomenon. The lamps of 
the Church of the Holy Sepulchre are on that occasion, 
to this day, hghted not by human agency, but by fire 
from heaven. It does not appear to be visible from 
outside above the roof, but inside there is no doubt 
about it. Here the visitor is shown the precise spot 
where Abraham attempted to slay his son Isaac. We 
had already seen another spot (the Rock under the 
Dome) where the ordeal took place. The Warrior him- 
self expressed doubt. 

"I thought," said he, ''that this happened on the big 
rock." 

" That is just where you fellows are so absurdly 
sceptical,'' replied Jus; "there is no evidence that he 
did not make the attempt twice.'' 

"I never thought of that," Orlando meekly admitted; 
" naturally he would try again, of course." 

The tree is also shown iji which the ram was caught 
by the horns. 

It must be very old," observed the Warrior. 

" Four thousand years old ! " said the guide. 

One of the most interesting spots in Jerusalem for the 
man of science is undoubtedly the Centre of the World. 
It is surprising that Sir Isaac Newton makes no mention 
of it. Coupling the facts that he was born on Decem- 
ber 25, and that he propounded the theory of gravita- 
tion, one would have expected him to have referred 
to it. 

An ancient arch in Jerusalem goes by the name of 
Robinson's arch. Now I respect Robinson as much as 
(even more than) Jehoshaphat or Sennacherib ; but the 

252 



The Stronghold of Zion 

three names do not run well together. I was re- 
minded of Campbell's tomb at Gizeh. Discoverers 
deserve to be remembered, but some other means 
should be found of associating their names with their 
discoveries. 

Of all spots on the earth the most woful and, to the 
truly reverent spirit, the most shocking is surely the 
Garden of Gethsemane. Over a squalid quad, sixty 
yards long, surrounded by raihngs, traversed by vulgar 
little paths of the cottage-garden order, and surrounded 
by fourteen childish and tawdry paintings of the fourteen 
Stations, the visitor is shown for a few piastres by a 
shabby Franciscan monk. 

The walk up the Mount of Olives is a refreshing 
change. The view from the top, or, better still, from 
the Belvedere Tower which the Russians have built 
there, is expansive and picturesque. There, at a con- 
siderable depth below sea-level, glitters the Dead Sea. 
There meanders the river Jordan ; and beyond stretches 
a chain of hills some three thousand feet high, over the 
top of which Moses is said to have had his first and last 
peep at the land of milk and honey. The mount is well 
wooded with olives, figs, almonds, and other trees ; and 
alas ! in a most conspicuous place some nineteenth- 
century Philistine has built himself a villa of the most 
modern type, doubtless "fitted throughout with all the 
latest appliances, and thoroughly adapted to the require- 
ments of a genteel family." 

On the way up we entered the Chapel of the Thirty- 
two Languages, in which the Lord's Prayer is printed on 
tablets hung all round the cloisters. Orlando was 
mortified to find that, although the tongues of Brittany 

2SS 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



and Provence figured in the thirty-two, that of the gallant 
httle principality of Wales had been omitted. Whether 
the omission is due to the fact that the founders of the 
chapel had not heard of Wales, or to the fact that the 
Cymri of Jerusalem somehow could not recollect the 
Lord's Prayer, or to the more probable fact, that the 
tablet on which it was printed went to pieces under the 
strain, I cannot say. The young women of this gruesome 
convent lie in their coffins for three hours each morning 
to meditate on the mutability of mundane affairs. And 
in the midst of the quad stands a pomegranate, the 
emblem of abasement. Poor girls ! this world is not 
a paradise, but it has its bright side for all but 
you ! 

We were pursued by lepers near the foot of the hill : 
loathsome and pitiable beings who ought to be kept in 
comfortable confinement, instead of being encouraged to 
ply their vile trade of mendicity with menace. Most 
passers-by give for fear of pollution, but a resident who 
accompanied us threw stones at them. It seemed a 
drastic measure, but he declared there was nothing else 
for it, such importunate beggars had they become by 
long practice. 

The tombs of the kings and the tombs of the prophets 
are all paltry fniuds ; and the Castle of David dates 
from the fourteenth century of our era. We wandered 
through the narrow lane now called the Via Dolorosa, a 
modern slum built on the debris of three cities ; we 
explored Gordon's Calvary, the only one which can be 
made, by any stretch of the imagination, to correspond 
with the possible scene of the Crucifixion ; we inspected 
the numerous medic-eval gates of the city ; and then, 



The Stronghold of Zion 

bidding farewell to the off-scouring of all nations and 
the cesspool of all sects, we shook off the dust of our 
feet as a testimony against them, and returned, sadly dis- 
appointed, to Joppa : and thence through the smihng 
islands of the ^gean to Constantinople. 



259 



CHAPTER XII 



THE JEWEL OF CONSTANTINE 

There can be no doubt whatever that Constantinople 
stands on the finest site in the world, not only for com- 
mercial, but for military purposes. Six and a half cen- 
turies B.C. it attracted the attention of the early Greek 
navigators, who founded a small town there, under Byzas 
— hence the name Byzantium — which was afterwards forti- 
fied by the Spartan Pausanias. But it was not till the 
fourth century of our era that Constantine the Great 
discovered and appreciated its stupendous advantages. 
One night he fell asleep. An old woman appeared to 
him in his dream. Suddenly she was transformed into a 
bewitching maiden (they are in dreams), and he imme- 
diately proceeded to decorate her with all the imperial 
symbols and knick-knacks he could lay hands on. He 
was quite sorry to wake up ; nor could he shake off the 
memory of the entrancing creature. What could it all 
mean? A modern English schoolboy would have told 
him at once. " Clearly the old woman is withered 
Byzantium, a thousand years old. Under your care she 
is to be regenerated, and to bloom into the fairest and 
noblest city in the world.'' But Constantine was an 
experienced soldier and statesman, and it took him much 

260 



The Jewel of Constantine 

serious reflection to discover the correct interpretation 
of his dream. Having done so, he set to work without 
delay. He devoted two and a half million pounds 
(English value) to building the walls and laying out the 
town. In marking out the boundaries, which he did 
with his own hand, he was preceded by an invisible 
guide, and in a few years a glorious city arose which 
could vie with, and in some respects outshine, Rome 
herself. Unfortunately, in his zeal and impatience, he 
beautified his new idol with the art treasures of Greece, 
which he ruthlessly transplanted from their ancient 
homes. From Athens he stole the colossal bronze 
statue of Apollo by Phidias. From the temple of Delphi 
he took the most memorable monument of all time — 
a pillar of brass composed of three serpents twisted 
together to commemorate the glorious victory of the 
Greeks over Xerxes. And there it stands until this day 
to witness if I lie. Turkish guardianship has not im- 
proved it. Indeed, Mahomed IL, anxious to show his 
prowess, smote off the under jaw of one of the serpents 
with his battle-axe. This was very clever of Mahomed, 
and it is typical of the reverence for art and antiquity 
which those sombre and uninteresting barbarians have 
ever evinced. 

For a thousand years Constantinople grew in 
splendour, but from the memorable year 1453, when 
the redoubtable serpent-smasher wrested it from the 
last of the Constantines, not an original building, not 
a scientific truth, not a single noble work of any kind 
has sprung up in the benighted city. Greek churches 
have been converted into Mahommedan mosques, and 
many similar ones have been erected on Greek plans 

261 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



and by Greek architects. Nothing new has seen the 
light, and all that was noble in the old is crumbhng 
away. The artistic textile fabrics and costumes of the 
Turks are Persian, their rehgion is Arabian, their archi- 
tecture is Byzantine, their ships are English — their morals 
are their own. 

The streets are filthy — the Grande Rue de Pera would 
disgrace a London slum ; the houses are ugly and dirty, 
and the inhabitants are worse. Even the dogs are surly 
and suspicious, and I never saw one wag its tail. More- 
over, they are all of exactly the same size, showing the 
absence of human care and affection. 

Yet the Turks are warhke — barbarians usually are; 
and they possess some of the barbaric virtues. They 
are truthful and fairly honest. They are not cheats or 
sneaks, like the Armenian parasites who prey upon them. 
Moreover, they are hospitable and generous, and faithful 
in friendship. 

As we steamed up the Hellespont, through the Sea of 
Marmora and into the Bosphorus, the wind was cold 
and laden with sleet. After the tropical weather of 
Egypt, we not only felt the change keenly, but were 
possibly rendered less capable of appreciating what 
little enjoyment Constantinople has to afford. The first 
view of the triple- city is dazzling. The Maria lay-to a 
httle to the east of the Arsenal quay. 

Our station commanded an excellent outlook. On 
our right lay Scutari with its cemeteries and cypresses. 
Before us lay Galata and the rising heights of Pera, and 
behind us was Byzantium, now called Stamboul, which 
is said to be a Turkish corruption of the Greek phrase 
for "up to Town." So says Gibbon, but I do not 

262 



The Jewel of Constantine 



believe it. Stamboul is separated from Galata and Pera 
by the Golden Horn, an arm of the sea seven miles long, 
and affording excellent anchorage for the largest ships. 
Both are separated from Scutari by the Bosphorus, which 
in its narrowest part is not more than half a mile wide. 

Which of the great nations of the future is the heir of 
the Sick Man? Here Europe and Asia meet. Here 
the Mediterranean and the Black Sea are connected 
by a narrow streak of water no wider than a respectable 
river. Whoever holds the keys of this gate will com- 
mand the trade of Europe, Asia, and Africa, and 
dominate all the inland seas. As a naval and military 
stronghold, vastly superior to Gibraltar, Constantinople 
stands at the crossways of the two great trade routes — • 
the land route between India and the West, and the 
sea route between the shores of the Euxine and the 
Atlantic. Cowardice alone stands between Britannia and 
the jewel of Constantine. Neither ignorance nor want of 
enterprise can justly be laid to her charge. Meantime 
Russia is doing yeoman service on the vast Asiatic 
continent, and as a land power we may wish her god- 
speed. 

We took the opportunity of calling on the officers of 
H.M.S. Nyfiiph^ which was lying at no great distance 
from us, with a view to learning something of the social 
attractions of the place. They received us with British 
courtesy, and seemed mightily sick of the station. Clare 
inquired of one of them what was his opinion of the 
place after so long a sojourn in it. Awfully slow," was 
the reply, and all the fellows wear goloshes, don't you 
know?" " But," he added, " I don't recommend you to 
smoke any of their cigarettes." 

263 



i 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



All this, I need hardly say, threw a flood of light on 
the past history, present condition, and future prospects 
of the capital of Turkey. And I am bound to add that 
all three statements were perfectly true, and were fully 
borne out by subsequent experience. Should the officers 
of the Xy?nph desire to know to which of their number 
this work is indebted for the information just recorded, 
I will tell them frankly that it was the one in dark blue, 
with the English physiognomy and the jolly nautical 
gait. There can be no mistaking him, but if further 
identification is needed, I may say that it was the one 
who has not yet bought and read this treatise. 

Having no goloshes, we picked our way as well as we 
could through the filthy alleys leading up to Great Pera 
Street, accompanied by a Turk, who told us there were 
no fewer than eighty thousand Greeks in Constantinople 
— all murderers ! It afterwards transpired that by 
murderers " he meant what we should call " cut- 
throats.'' 

After lunching at the Pera Hotel we took carriages 
and drove round, over the bumpy road, to the Yildiz 
Kiosk. At the drill-ground we saw some soldiers 
manoeuvring, and were surprised to find them nearly 
all Albanians or Africans of one kind or another. 

" Oh, yes," said one guide, " you see the Sultan cannot 
very well trust his own countrymen : among his own 
bodyguard there is not a single Turk." 
Can we see the Sultan ? " we asked. 

''Only on Fridays," he repHed, "when he crosses over 
to the mosque to say his prayers, well guarded." 

Everything along the route, except the Imperial 
Palaces, is squalid and tumble-down beyond descrip- 

264 



The Jewel of Constantine 

tion. both in the city and in the suburban country. 
And the Turkish warships in the Golden Horn are a 
laughing-stock. We met the Minister of War, not 
riding, but crouching in something very like a four- 
wheeled cab; ard several other dignitaries of State, 




A TURKISH ]\IAX-OF-WAR 



similarly huddled up away from the gaze of the Young 
Turkish party or the snaky Armenian patriots. 

The wounded from the war seemed to be well taken 
care of, but they did not wear the jubilant air of 
conquerors ; and the music played by the military bands 
was not Oriental, but German. 

One of our party was anxious to ascertain on the spot, 
and at first hand, the truth about the numbers who fell 
in the recent Armenian massacres. A handsome young 

265 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Greek, who could have given long odds to Baron ]\Iunch- 
hausen, assured us that not fewer than twelve thousand 
five hundred fell. A solemn Turkish official said he 
had no doubt there might have been between fifty and 
sixty of the conspirators killed. And a Jew named 
Charley Bates,'"'" a hawking merchant, whom yachts- 
men will remember as a persistent and plausible invader, 
told us, after looking round to see that no one was 
listening, that the precise number of victims was eleven 
hundred and twenty. Clare had no difficulty in accepting 
the Greek's estimate. The Hon. Sec. thought the Turk 
had erred, if at all, on the side of exaggeration, while 
no one attached the slightest credence to the Jew, from 
which circumstance we may conclude that his version 
was most likely the true one — or, at any rate, the truest. 

When Togrul Bey and his pastoral warriors dwelt 
in their Tartar tents they were a race of hardy and 
worthy savages. Steeped in the uncongenial luxurious- 
ness of Persia and Greece, their descendants are still 
savages, but no longer entitled to esteem. Constanti- 
nople may be summarily described as the squalidest 
town on the noblest site in the world — a fertile garden 
covered with locusts. 

Of its inhabitants, the horses are bad, the dogs worse, 
and the people worst of all. Yet even the Turks them- 
selves are not so bad but that they are surpassed in 
depravity by the stranger within their gates. The cheats 
and cut-throats of all nations seem to thrive like vermin 
in this putrescent community. Travellers who base their 
estimate of Greek character on the specimens they meet 
in Turkey would do well to postpone judgment, and 
first to pay the Hellenes a visit in their own lo\ely and 

266 



The Jewel of Constantine 



orderly home in Athens, where private enterprise and 
private munificence may well serve as an example to all 
nations. Whither, bidding farewell (or ill) to the sleet 
and the mud and the dogs and the Yahoos of a moribund 
city, we now set forth. 

"Terrible thing, the despotic rule of the One," said 
Clare thoughtfully. 

It all depends which One," Jus remarked with a 
sardonic smile, as novelists say. 

" Not at all ; the rule of the Many is better than that 
of any One," replied Clare. 

"What do you mean by the rule of the Many?" 

" The majority, of course," was the ready response. 

" Oh, I see ; the rule of King Odd-man. I don't think 
much of him. 7 have seen him^^^ said Jus. 

" Now it is you who are talking parables ; who on 
earth is King Odd-man ? " Clare inquired. 

" Let me explain. There was once a great democracy : 
they had universal suffrage, male and female, adult and 
infant, prince and pauper. The population was forty 
millions and one. It was the day of the general election. 
I remember it well. The people were divided into 
blues and yellows. Every man, woman, and child had 
voted except one youth, and the votes were exactly 
equal — that is to say, there were twenty million blues 
and twenty million yellows. The unpolled free and 
independent elector was the aforesaid youth. I met 
him coming to the polling-booth. He was a barman in 
a suburban public-house. He was seated in a nobleman's 
carriage drawn by his horses gaily caparisoned. He 
seemed weighed down by the responsibilities of his 
position, so much so that he was supported by the 

267 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



noble owner of the carriage on one side and an election- 
eering agent on the other. A calm and tranquil smile 
played over his otherwise unattractive features. His 
hair was hanging over his glittering eyes, and his head 
drooped on his chest reflectively. The carriage was 
accompanied by a huge surging crowd of cheering and 
howling ruffians, decked out in blue and yellow ribbons. 
These people, I was told, were the electorate, thirsting 
for justice and good government. At last the polling- 
booth was reached, and King Odd-man (for such he was) 
alighted, or rather was lifted out of the carriage. He 
was immediately assailed by two perspiring gentlemen 
with large tickets in their hats — blue and yellow respec- 
tively. They both deferentially asked the King for 
something or other, I could not clearly make out w^hat. 
He replied with dignity, and perhaps some slight im- 
patience, " Ain't gonno tiksh ; lemme lone ; go shoo 
devl," and then passed out of sight into the school-house 
to register his vote. The whole country during the few 
minutes of his absence stood in breathless suspense. 
King Odd-man was settling the destiny of a great nation. 
I was reminded of the battle of Marathon. It was 
indeed a thriUing moment. The immediate future of 
civilization hung upon the King's decision. What preg- 
nant thoughts were surging through his brain ? We 
cannot tell. He voted. The news was bruited abroad 
in Avider and wider circles, like the ripples that follow one 
another when a stone is dropped into smooth water. 
The welkin ran 2; with tumultuous cheers and answering: 
groans. The King had spoken ! " 

The pause which followed this mendacious narrative 
was broken by the Warrior. 

268 



The Jewel of Constantine 

^'I don't believe that yarn," he said, "but it is quite 
true all the same. Anything is better than the rule 
of the rabble, and that is what we have got now in 
England and Wales. Give me Julius C^sar or Bismarck, 
or even Oliver Cromwell, rather than a set of howling 
dervishes like our mob of electors. We are nearly as 
bad as America, and are going from bad to worse. 
Stick to the good old Monarchy, I say, and knock the 
agitator on the head.'' 

I always thought," the Hon. Sec. remarked, address- 
ing himself to Jus, ''that you were a sort of Red 
Republican ; and here you are backing up the Sultan 
against the democracy." 

"I am doing nothing of the sort," rephed Jus; ''it 
does not follov/ because I object to be governed by 
King Odd-man that I want to be governed by some 
other tyrant. Away with the lot of them ! I prefer to 
govern myself." 

" Oh, that is Anarchy," interjected Clare, glad of 
an opportunity of putting the Literary Failure in his 
proper place. 

" Quite so," replied Jus, " or, more correctly speaking. 
Individualism." 

Clare was silent and sad. The Com. smiled pityingly 
and took up a newspaper. The Hon. Sec, personally 
hurt and offended, sauntered off, followed by Orlando. 
The latter was overheard to mutter just outside the door, 
" You never know where to have that man ; he will talk 
good sense one minute, and the most abject drivel the 
next." 

Which is quite true — but on the present occasion he 
may have been talking sense. 

269 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



At Gallipoli we were beset with a snow-storm, which 
compelled us to put in for the night. This was in one 
respect fortunate, for, on the following morning the sun 
rose brightly and illumined the broad plains of old Troy. 
The weather and the season were against us, and we 
were unable to gratify our curiosity by exploring the 
classic region, because of the torrents, which render all 
the roads impassable in winter. But it was something to 
single out Tvlount Ida draped in snow, and to see with 
our own eyes the two promontories where Ajax raved 
and Achilles sulked in his tent. Not far from New 
Ilium we descried the masts of a big ship, which, bolder or 
less fortunate than ourselves, had run upon rocks during 
the snow-storm of the previous night, and lay some 
fathoms deep in a troubled sea. 

Our second voyage across the blue .T'.gean was fairly 
lively, so far as the sea was concerned, but the descrip- 
tion of the lovely islands I leave, as in honour bound, 
to the Hon. Sec, our Minister of Art, well assured that 
my confidence will not have been misplaced. 



270 



CHAPTER XIII 



ATHENS 

After passing between Andros and the south coast of 
Euboia, a dense mist settled down upon the sea, and our 
cautious captain deemed it advisable to mark time all 
night long at the entrance to the Gulf of Athens. There 
are really too many islands in this sea. They want thin- 
ning. Most of them are picturesque, and many of them 
are fertile, as we know from the names of the old Greek 
wines. Touching wines, it must strike a modern wine- 
bibber as hardly credible that such artists as the Athenians 
should actually have desecrated the juice of the grape, 
not only with copious water, but also with honey and 
spices. Yet so it was. Alkibiades and Sophocles never 
sipped their Chian neat, but in the form of negus. When 
we look at the price they paid for their vin ordinaire^ 
say a bottle of Mendsean — one farthing, or, to be quite 
accurate, twopence a gallon — it becomes less surprising 
that they sought to improve its flavour by the addition 
of herbs, gums, spices, and even resin. Next to Chian 
wine, the Lesbian and Thasian were the most highly 
esteemed; but nowadays, I was pained to find, the 
decadent descendants of the heroes of Marathon and 
Salamis are content to imbibe the wines of the Rhine 

271 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



and the Rhone, and of the vineyards of Champagne. 
Even at the British Legation, despite the otherwise genial 
hospitahty of our British and Russian host and hostess, 
Sir Edwin and Lady Egerton, not a drop of cinnamoned 
Lesbian or be-musked Coan was forthcoming. Horace 
described Lesbian wine as " innocens," and Phny says 
that it naturally tasted of sea-water — from which we may 
draw our own conclusions. It is nevertheless a fact that 
not only sea-water, but also lime and turpentine, were 
used to give the wine a bit of a fillip. And before the 
girls could be allowed to drink it, they had to cut their 
nails. Otherwise, says Catullus, they were liable to 
scratch their friends. 

Either the ladies or the liquors have undergone a 
change since those classic days ; for I myself have never 
once been scratched by any lady whom I have had the 
honour of taking in to dinner — not even in Greece, where 
they are allowed no time to smooth their ruffled feelings 
(as in England) before being rejoined by the non- 
scratching sex. Whether this danger is the origin of the 
British custom I do not know. I have heard it attributed 
to our grandfathers' hygienic custom of taking a nap 
under the table as an aid to digestion after dinner. 

But all this has nothing to do with the Piraeus, into 
which we steamed next morning, after the sun had dis- 
pelled the mist. We were accompanied by a fellow 
sufferer who had rocked about at a respectful distance 
from, us all night. She turned out to be a Greek battle- 
ship conveying the prisoners of war from Constantinople, 
where they had been well provided for, and even new- 
clad, but, oddly enough, in black. The crowd was not 
allowed to give them a welcome nor to make any demon- 

272 




s 



Athens 



stration ; but, slipping into our launch, we succeeded in 
watching them land. 

Athens was visibly depressed at the time of our visit. 
The cost of the war was weighing heavily upon the Greek 
treasury. Buildings stood half completed and neglected, 
and the usual gay diversions of the prettiest city in the 
world were suspended. The entrance to the Piraeus is 
not in itself very striking — " not a patch on Constanti," 
as the Warrior phrased it, quite weary of using five 
syllables every time he mentioned the place. The Long 
Walls have entirely disappeared from view, though here 
and there the foundations may be found, and the harbour 
is neither vast nor well hemmed-in by beautiful buildings, 
nor crowded with fine ships. Its main interest lies in its 
vicinity to Athens, and in the old world scenes which it 
recalls from the dim past. 

Two days in particular will ever be associated in the 
mind with this historical port ; two days which are them- 
selves linked together^ and also linked with the name of 
the strangest figure of all time — Alkibiades. The first 
was the day of his departnre in joint-command of the 
Athenian fleet, and the second was the day of his re-entry 
into the city. 

It was in the spring of the year 415 B.C. that the whole 
population of Athens swarmed down the broad road 
between the Long Walls, to watch the embarkation of 
the troops for the Sicilian battle-fields, on forty transport 
ships convoyed by sixty triremes of the fleet. At day- 
break the whole town seemed crowded together all round 
the harbour ; the army marched down in a body from the 
city, and before embarking, the men took farewell of their 
fathers, brothers, and friends, for it was a citizen army. 

275 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



The trumpet sounded, the herald offered up prayers to 
the gods and sang the paean : bowls of wine were circu- 
lated, and the officers poured out Hbations from gold and 
silver goblets. Then the Keleustes chanted the oarsmen 
into motion, and, the signal being given, the fleet quitted 
the Pirseus in single file : and, to testify their enthusiasm, 
started off with a speed race as far as .'Egina. 

The three commanders were men of very different 
stamp. Poor old Nikias may best be described by the 
echo of his name : like the Burgomaster of Oberwesel on 
the Rhine. Wer ist der Burgomeister von Oberwesel ? 
shouts the German student as he ghdes down the river. 
And the echo supphes the answer. A like method will 
furnish a correct description of that good old woman 
Nikias. Lamachus was a born soldier, but nothing more. 
Alkibiades alone of the three was a general of the highest 
order. Destined by fate and fanaticism to fight for 
Athens and against Athens, for Sparta and against Sparta, 
for both combined and against both combined, this great 
warrior-philosopher, brave, handsome, athletic, clever, 
profound, and gifted with inexhaustible resource, never 
once lost a battle either by land or by sea. Yet hardly 
had he waved farewell to his fellow countrymen, and put 
to sea, full of his noble scheme of Pan-Hellenism and 
burning with patriotism, than political envy, priestly 
cunning, and parochial bufile-headedness, set to work to 
compass his ruin. He had made fun of the Eleusinian 
mysteries : the Hernice had been mutilated. He who 
had done the one was clearly capable of the other. He 
had attended the Olympic games, and taken the first 
prize in the chariot race. His tent was more magnificent 
than that of any other. He was worshipped by the 

276 



Athens 



Athenian ladies, and, what was worse than all, he had 
out-manoeuvred all the old parliamentary hands and 
brought about the Argeian alliance. 

As for the Hermae, they were merely a number of 
sacred sign-posts, about the height of a man. The upper 
half was roughly carved into the head and bust of Hermes, 
and the lower half was a quadrangular column peculiarly 
decorated. Handed down from a barbarous antiquity, 
they were a vulgar anachronism in a civilized city, and 
whoever mutilated them was worthy of praise. One of 
these figures has lately been unearthed and set up in 
the new Stadion j but it should be removed to the 
Museum. 

One fine morning while Alkibiades was pacing the 
deck of his trireme and maturing his grand plans before 
Syracuse, a summons was brought requiring him to 
present himself at once for trial before the High Court of 
Justice for sacrilege. Several other suspects having 
already been put to death under similar impeachments) 
he judged it prudent to decline the invitation. So, while 
affecting to comply, and setting forth in his ship with the 
bearer of the summons, he and a few companions quietly 
slipped off the vessel as they were rounding the corner 
of Italy, and eluding search, made off. 

And now the extraordinary determination and resource 
of this brilliant Athenian are brought prominently to 
light. On being informed that he had been tried and 
condemned to death in his absence, he exclaimed : " I 
will show them that I am alive.'' 

Athens had virtually declared war against the in- 
dividual Alkibiades ; and the individual Alkibiades 
accepted the challenge. T/zey had ^' the ships, the men, 

277 



Down the Stream of Civilization 

and the money too," but he had the brains. And the 
brains won. The Syracusan expedition fell hopelessly 
to pieces in the hands of dear old Nikias. Lamachus 
fell in battle, as brave soldiers do, and as wise generals 
do not — as a rule. The army was well-nigh annihilated. 
The fleet was captured, the colonies and islands were cut 
off, Attica itself was invaded, and Athens licked the dust. 
Every move in the game was the direct work of Alkibiades. 
The proud democracy which had condemned him to 
death now implored him to return, as the only man alive 
capable of extricating them from their miseries. His 
reply stands on record as the most magnificently insolent 
rebuff ever administered by an individual to a State. 
Said he, " The democracy which condemned me to 
death is now by me condemned to death." Firm as a 
rock under every temptation to comply — weariness of 
exile, the entreaties of friends, his yearning to revisit the 
old home, and his true patriotism — he would not cede 
an inch. The democracy must die. The Athenians 
must drain the last dregs of humiliation, or the convict 
would not return. So the democracy was abolished and 
an oligarchy set up in its stead. 

Thus did the haughty Repubhc grovel at the feet of 
its extraordinary citizen. And the Piraeus witnessed 
another spectacle in which Alkibiades, after an exile of 
eight years, was for a second time the central figure. 
The sun shone on a trireme covered with gold and 
silver, wafted by sails of Tyrian purple, and followed by 
two hundred captive ships of war taken from the 
enemies. The chief Athenian actor pronounced the 
rowers' chant (perhaps not unlike the chant with which 
our young Keleustes urged his Arab oarsmen through 

278 



Athens 



the Cataract), the ablest minstrels played the homeward- 
bound air, and the whole populace of Athens again 
swarmed dow^n between the Long Walls to accord the 
Convict a national welcome. The sentence of death 
against him was of course cancelled, even the saintly 
Eumolpidae were forced to revoke the curse they had 
pronounced on his head eight years before, and to pitch 
into the sea the slab of lead on which it was engraven. 
His confiscated property was all returned to him, and 
more also, and finally he was proclaimed Commander- 
in-Chief of the Athenian forces with full powers. 

Truth is indeed stranger than fiction. No trial of 
strength between an individual and a nation has ever 
before or since ended in such an overwhelming victory 
for the One over the Many. And the story of Alki- 
biades would be resented as an exaggeration even of the 
bare possibilities had it emanated from the brain of a 
romancer. 

As we wended our way along the road to Athens all 
through the quiet streets of the sorrowing city these 
thrilling scenes of twenty-three centuries ago were vividly 
recalled. Suppose that, untrammelled by petty jealousies 
and by the devious machinations of cancerous priestcraft, 
this great Wielder of Men had been permitted to 
complete his design, and to weld all the Greek States 
into a Pan-Hellenic Confederacy; would Philip of 
Macedon then have broken them like scattered arrows ? 
Would even the Roman legions have prevailed against 
the vanquishers of Xerxes ? Above all, would the early 
blossoms of Pure Reason have withered before the 
freezing blast from the East^ and lain blighted and 
sapless for a thousand years ? 

279 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



All these vain reflections were cut short at a turn in 
the road where the little Temple of Theseus came sud- 
denly in view. A short ascent to the Areiopagus, and 
then — the Acropolis ! I will make no attempt to 
describe this the most hallowed spot on the surface of 
the earth. Beautiful, almost faultless, the ruins stand, 
majestic in death. The Parthenon, the Propylaea, the 
Erechtheum, the little Temple of Wingless Victory (for 
had she not come to stay ?) are not the herculean and 
sombre strength-feats of the Aryan race in its raw youth, 
like the pyramids of Gizeh and the Temples of Karnak 
and Luxor : they are the finished productions of its full 
manhood. Mind rather than muscle was the architect 
of these graceful structures. And the setting is worthy 
of the jewels. The view from the summit of the rock, 
even apart from its associations, is lovely, with the fair 
city stretched on the plain at its foot, and the far 
encircling hills. 

The distant ghmmer of Akro-Corinth across the water 
reminds us how small these Greek City States really 
were. x\nd their lamentably short though glorious 
history is another proof, if proof were needed, of the 
instability of communal government. For administrative 
purposes decentralisation is excellent, but for legislative 
purposes it is fatal. When the old Amphictyonic Council 
lost its vitality, and the small Hellenic States had each 
its own College Green Parliament (if I may use the 
expression to save time), independent of central control, 
Hellas was foredoomed, as none foresaw more clearly 
than Alkibiades. On the other hand, the intense local 
patriotism fostered by administrative independence gave 
an immense stimulus to art. A large socialistic 

280 



I 



Athens 

community will never create anything worth pre- 
serving. 

Whether the music of this imaginative people was on 
a level with its architecture, its poetry, and its philo- 
sophy I do not know. The score of a hymn to 




THE ERECHTHEUM 



Orpheus is said to have been discovered and rendered 
by modern executants, but I have never heard it ; and 
much doubt whether the modern performance would 
rejoice the soul of the ancient composer if he could 
Usten to it. Certain it is that some of the older 
melodies and recitatives to be heard at St. Peter's in 
Rome vividly recall the weird wailings of the dwellers in 
the desert. Moreover, our own Arabs confessed they 

283 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



could find no pleasure in the European piano recitals 
of Orlando and the Banker : but there might be another 
explanation of that ! ]\Iusic, such as we know it — what 
may be called the music of harmony — is probably of 
recent and comparatively local growth. 

"Come along,*' said the 'Varsity Man one day: ''let 
us go up Hymettus." 

"I think," said the Hon. Sec, "that I shall go up 
Lycabettus." 

" Like a what? " inquired the Warrior. In the end — 
for it was wintry weather, and the heights were covered 
with snow — Clare had to accomplish the ascent of 
Hymettus alone. But the pre-Homeric cricket-balls 
which he collected near the summit turned out, on 
further inquiry, to be mere modern imitations, manu- 
factured by shepherds out of a substance which abounds 
in the district. The material of which these balls were 
made is white, and possesses the singular property, when 
brought down into the plain, of transmuting itself into 
water. This is no traveller's tale. I witnessed it with 
my own eyes, and am convinced there was no deception. 
It seems to lend colour to a long discredited story of the 
days of Deukalion, when stones are said to have been 
transmuted into flesh and blood. Whether is it more 
probable, I ask, that this simple although unusual pheno- 
menon should have taken place, or that the thousands 
of spectators present, including the ladies and gentlemen 
themselves who had passed their early days in the form 
of stones, should all of them have been liars? What 
motive had they for palming off an untruth on unborn 
generations ? And, after all, is the metamorphosis really 
more wonderful than the transmutation of a hard white 

284 



Athens 

ball, without visible agency, into running water ? The 
fact is, modern criticism is becoming far too captious. 
Hypercriticism and scepticism are dangerously rife in 
all departments of inquiry. 

The story of the Sphinx is older than Greek history 




CARYATIDES 



itself. By a strange coincidence, this monster with the 
face of a woman and the body of a lion, took up her 
dreadful abode at Thebes. Her modus opera?idi was to 
ask a riddle. This in itself is a most vexatious pro- 
ceeding. Failing a correct solution, the Sphinx devoured 
the citizens one by one. Nowadays it is the propounder 
of the riddle who usually dies ; then it was otherwise. 
When at length (Edipus found the correct solution he 

285 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



of course married the princess — at least he thought she 
was the princess, but really she was his mother; and the 
Sphinx, flinging herself headlong from the Citadel, was 
heard of no more. Why cannot chess-problem composers 
follow her noble example ? 

The stories of the Minotaur and the Sphinx point to 
very early Egyptian invasions of Greece, but otherwise 
there is very little similarity between the ancient religions 
of the two peoples. Both were based originally on 
ancestor-worship, and both eventually developed, by the 
hyperboHc adulation of the dead, into the worship of the 
powers of Nature, and especially of the Sun, the Giver of 
Life and Happiness. Finally, as the thoughts of men 
were widened, the Sun itself came to be regarded rather 
as a symbol of the Deity than as the Deity Himself. 
And naturally on each step forward somebody had to 
be poisoned or exiled or crucified or burnt. This is 
the ransom which Ignorance invariably extorts from 
Wisdom. 

It is unsafe to draw hasty conclusions from pre-historic 
legends ; but the fact that the heroes of Greek myth 
were adored and idealised by their mortal successors 
seems to show that they were regarded as of the same 
race ; whereas the Semitic peoples refer to the precursors 
of men as Giants and Chins, or Jins (they are called 
Genies in the fairy books), who are described as having 
yellow faces and elephants' ears. Who else can these 
Chins be, yellow-skinned and elephant-eared, but the 
Chinese, who drove them out of their native paradise to 
prowl for a living among the peoples of the southern 
climes ? Again, the name Hellenes means, I think, 
Whites as opposed to Darkies. The word "Greek'' 

286 



Athens 



possibly refers to the older inhabitants — but this is mere 
conjecture. i\ristotle says the inhabitants of Hellas 
were in old time called Greeks. 

Among primitive tribes, even in our own day, when the 
youngest son attains to man's estate, it falls to his duty 




THE PARTHENON 



to "tap the governor on the knob," as the Warrior ex- 
plained; in other words, to put a stop to the father's 
unduly protracted career. In the kindlier age this 
custom takes the form of proximogeniture, or the succes- 
sion of the youngest son to the government of the house- 
hold. A relic of this custom still prevails in England 
under the name of borough-English. It seems to have 
been pretty extensive among our Aryan ancestors, and 

287 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



therefore it may be worthy of note that Uranos, the first 
of the gods, was succeeded by Kronos, his youngest son, 
and Kronos was succeeded by his youngest son, Zeus, 
This was the natural order of succession in the domestic 
circle, before Houses became aggregated into Gentes or 
Clans. Afterwards the need for a fighting leader led the 
Clans and Tribes to select, not the youngest, but the 
ablest member ; and the eldest male relative succeeded 
to the deceased chief ; and so, through all the variations of 
Tanistry, we come down to the modern custom of primo- 
geniture. The Turks still adhere to this transitional form 
of succession by the eldest surviving brother. Hence the 
necessity under which a new Sultan labours of having 
to assassinate most of his brothers and uncles. To us 
it seems a rather cruel proceeding; but "needs must 
when the devil drives," and, as the Hon. Sec. pertinently 
inquired, " What would jjw/ do? " 

It is pleasant to find Athens and her priceless treasures 
in the safe keeping of the Greeks, who regard them as 
heirlooms. There is hardly a stone on the Acropolis 
which does not date from the golden age. Yet, not 
many years ago, the classic rock was half-choked with 
Frankish, Venetian, and Turkish ruins, all jumbled 
together with those of Greece. Were the modern pro- 
prietors justified in eradicating all traces of intermediate 
history ? 

To some it may appear that the relics of Early Chris- 
tianity, of the Crusades, of the great trading Republics, 
of the Ottoman conquests, and of the spread of Islam, 
are as well worthy of preservation as those of the age of 
Perikles and Phidias. Then let such persons select 
typical places where each and all these predominate. 

288 




T 



Athens 



Let them weed out of such places all things calculated 
to distract the attention from the particular structures 
which illustrate and commemorate the selected type. 
Let them set apart Carthage for the study and worship 
of the Phoenician period. Let Venice be kept sacred to 
the age of the Doges. If a Roman bath should be found 
in Stonehenge, let it be dug out and cast away as a 
modern intrusion. Let the stones of St. Margaret's ugly 
church, with all its irrelevant associations, be reverently 
carted away and deposited in the dustbin, leaving West- 
minster Abbey free from its jarring disconformity. Malta 
might well be dedicated to the mihtant Catholicism of 
the Middle Ages, just as Pompeii is and ever will be 
maintained without addition as a souvenir of the early 
Roman Empire. Ismail's hideous incongruity at the 
foot of Cheops' pyramid will probably fall ere long before 
the blast of pubhc opinion. The whole plain of Thebes 
(in Egypt) should be swept clear of all buildings of date 
later than the Ramesids ; right round by the old walls 
with their hundred gates. And, above all, nothing should 
be left standing on the Acropolis of Athens which was 
not there before the invasion of Philip .of Macedon. 
Most cities are associated, not more with one age than 
with another or many others. Rome, Paris, and London 
recall no particular period, or rather they recall many 
stirring times, and the deeds of many races and many 
ages. Let them alone. 

Some enthusiastic wiseacre had been airing these 
admonitions to our matter-of-fact party, as we were 
sitting on the Areiopagos, when Clare, with a view to a 
diversion, and not without malice, asked, And what 
would you do with Llanwyddlanellipontyfechan ? " 

291 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



" Oh," chipped in the Hon. Sec, " that is a simple 
matter enough. I would build a high wall round it, fill 
it with bards, fit up a museum for old harps, invite the 
Eisteddfod to a session within, put Orlando at the head 
of the lot, and forbid any one of them to show his nose 
outside the walls again, on pain of instant death." 




TEMPLE OF JUPITER 



''Dear, dear," said the Warrior in consternation; 
wouldn't you allow us to take in the Pink Un or the 
Rules of the B.Y.C., or any other decent brain-wash — 
nothing but Y Werin ? I think I should commit felo-de- 
soniebody else'' 

That is the worst of our fellows. You can never start 
a respectable, far-reaching, bed-rock argument, but 
it settles down into something like that. 

292 



Athens 



One day shortly after the above inane conversation we 
were dining in Athens, when by chance the Com. asked 
how it was that a British cruiser was left rocking about 
outside in a choppy sea instead of running into the 
shelterof the Piraeus. Don't you know?" replied our 
host ; " why, British ships are not allowed to enter 
on account of the typhoid which has been raging there 
for weeks." 

This news required washing down with copious Chian, 
and next morning before daybreak we w^ere steaming out 
of the old harbour, and making for the new Corinth 
Canal. A train dashed right over our mast as we passed 
beneath the bridge. The walls or cliffs, which are nearly 
as smooth and regular as school slates, would have 
offered a great temptation to our old friends the temple 
decorators of King Seti ; and even our modern mural 
artists. Pears and Beecham and Nestle and the rest 
of them, will not long leave them tabulce rasce. Ere long 
I expect to find Hector running round Troy pursued by 
Achilles in a pair of Waukenphast's boots, and Sappho 
quaffing nectar from an old Chelsea cup with a boiled ox 
in it. Even the Ten Commandments done on stone in 
Stephen's ink will not take my breath away; and if 
Cincinnatus is not discovered in the act of sowing 
Sutton's seeds I shall be positively disappointed. 

" For I dipped into the future far as human eye could see, 
Saw the vision of the world and all the wonder that would be." 

The cruise from Corinth to Patras is what modern 
writers would, I suppose, call a symphony in blue and 
white. If they do not, they ought to be ashamed of 
themselves, for that is exactly what it is. 

293 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



On both sides the gHttering white snow-peaks pierce 
the blue sky and the blue waves shake their white crests. 
Everywhere blue and white meet the eye, and no other 
colour disturbs its spiritual freshness — so different from 
the sensuous, iridescent glories of the Nile. Some- 



IX THE CtULF of CORIXTH 



body made the usual remark about "nought but man 
being vile," and then we touched bottom off Cepha- 
lonia. 

The shock was only just enough to remind us that 
there was but a plank between us and eternity — just 
as though a plank were not as good as a hundred 
feet of granite on the top of an awakening earthquake 
— and to string up our nerves for the games which filled 

294 



Athens 

our saloon life, when "the curfew tolled the knell of 
parting day.'' When Jacko manipulated the curfew — 
which he frequently and joyfully did — both passengers 
and crew would look at their watches and shake their 
doubtful heads. 



295 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE VOICE OF VESUVIUS 

It was dusk when the Maria glided between Scylla and 
Charybdis. Scylla is a projecting rocky headland on the 
Italian side of the Straits of Messina, and Charybdis is a 
whirlpool near the Sicilian side. They do not now face 
each other precisely as in the days of Odysseus ; and the 
width of the Straits at tlie narrowest part is now over two 
miles across : so that modern navigators smile at the 
Homeric bogie. But when the south-east wind blew, 
Captain Smyth said he had himself seen several men-of- 
war whirled round on the surface of Charybdis ; nor 
must we forget that straits are always widening or 
narrowing, and that whirlpools shift their positions 
considerably. It is, therefore, quite possible that in 
the Homeric age the straits were less than a mile in 
width, and that consequently Charybdis, nearly, or per- 
haps quite, faced Scylla, in which case the perils of 
the passage for ships of the period would have been 
formidable enough. The distant smoke of towering 
Etna, which we saw for miles, would lend an additional 
terror to the voyage, when you remember who was lying 
beneath. 

^^^hen we passed Stromboli, like a shadowy black 
296 



The Voice of Vesuvius 

pyramid standing in the sea, either it was closing-time 
among the giants, or Typhoeus, who owns the workshop 
below, had retired from business. No smoke was issuing 
from his furnace. 

One of the advantages of yachting is that you can 
choose your own time for arriving at a port, which 
you cannot do when you travel by the regular liners. 
Accordingly we contrived to enter the Bay of Naples at 
sunrise. The eastern sky was blood-red, and Vesuvius 
was a black silhouette outlined upon it. 

The volumes of smoke which issued from its summit 
were also black as jet. The pale green vault of heaven 
was still sprinkled with fading stars. Gradually the light 
increased and the colour changed. The island of Capri 
was bathed in a pink glow, and then the bay lay before 
us like a sea of sapphire. 

*'Not bad," said the Hon. Sec, as he leaned over the 
gunwale. And it wasn't. 

Duty first and pleasure afterwards," shouted the 
Com. some hours later. "Pompeii to-day and Vesuvius 
to-morrow." 

There is something inexpressibly mournful and eerie 
in wandering through the streets of this dead city. 
There stand the houses and shops on each side of 
the narrow lava-paved streets, the wineshops with holes 
in the counter for the pointed am.phorae, the barbers', 
the bakers', the silversmiths', and the private residences 
of the rich. 

Pompeii was the Brighton of Rome. The waves of 
the sea once bathed its walls, now a mile away. Here is 
the house of Sallust; there stands the seaside villa of 
Cicero. This little temple was built by a gentleman 

297 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



named Celsinus, after the earthquake of 63 a.d. He 
dedicated it to Isis (heaven knows why), and sixteen 
years later he and his temple and the whole town 
were overwhelmed and buried by the boiling streams 
of water, ash, sand, and cinders which burst out of 
Vesuvius in the terrible year 79. 

Here we enter the Forum. It is paved with marble 
and adorned with marble statues. Near it stands the 
Temple of Venus— so it is called. Yonder is the Temple 
of Jupiter. In the oven of one bakehouse are some 
loaves of bread, still uneaten after 1820 years. Some 
people prefer stale bread. Many of the walls of the 
private houses are tastefully painted. Others are curiously 
painted ; but the fastidious are permitted to wait outside 
till everybody has passed, when they usually peep in 
alone. These are the County Councillors who feel it 
their duty to examine the backs of Zazel and Zeo in order 
to see that they are in proper repair ; and who put 
Boccaccio on the top shelf to keep it out of reach, but 
who forget to put the regulation layer of dust on its 
upper edges. 

Although Pompeii was covered only about fifteen feet 
deep in what the Italians call " lapilli," it is nevertheless 
true that its very site was absolutely lost sight of for many 
centuries, and was only rediscovered one hundred and fifty 
years ago. And it is even still more remarkable that the 
younger Pliny, who actually witnessed the eruption, 
nowhere mentions in his writings the destruction of this 
fashionable and populous place. Herculaneum, through 
which, or rather over which, we drove on our way from 
Naples, is never likely to be excavated, being covered 
with modern houses and warehouses. The very streets 

298 



The Voice of Vesuvius 



of all the towns in the neighbourhood are paved with 
large quadrangular blocks of lava; and with such a 
reminder ever before their eyes, one w^ould expect the 
inhabitants (if, indeed, there were any) to wear a sombre 
and anxious air, instead of which the Neapolitans are the 




A HOUSE IN POMPEII 



gayest people in the world. Yet why should dwellers 
near Vesuvius quake ? One old hermit lives in a hut on 
the very slope of the mountain. 

The mathematical chances against an eruption in his 
lifetime are far greater than against his death by old age 
or accident. 

The most ghastly and awful sight in Pompeii is the 
collection in what is most inappropriately called tlie 

299 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Museum. Here the bodies discovered ciiTionsf the ruins 
are laid out just as they were found. They are of two 
kinds — skeletons and casts. At first, only the skeletons 
were exhumed; but it was afterwards found that the 
hollows from which they were abstracted remained intact 
in the lapilli, and that by pouring suitable plaster into the 
cavities through a small aperture, it was possible to obtain 
an accurate cast of the body with all its features and out- 
lines as completely modelled as on the day when it suc- 
cumbed to the cataclysm. Within these casts I need 
hardly say the skeletons are embedded. An old man 
lies on his face convulsively clutching at the rug on which 
he fell. A mother embraces her terror-stricken daughter. 
A little dog lies on his back writhing in agony. This 
model has frequently been used by sculptors. One 
figure stands there as sublimely grand as the burning 
mountain itself. It is that of a young Roman sentinel 
on duty^ erect, unflinching, dauntless. The sculptor's art 
may give us numberless statues of fictitious heroes, but 
here is a petrifaction of living heroism, immortal as the 
gods. 

Although the streets of Pompeii were very narrow, the 
houses appear to have consisted of only one story, or at 
most of a stone ground-floor with a small wooden super- 
structure or garret for the slaves. Hence they were not 
gloomy. Equestrians, perhaps, might make their way 
along them, but for carriages it was impossible. At each 
crossing large stepping-stones are provided for foot- 
passengers, showing that streams of water probably flowed 
doAvn the streets. 

We saw an old trough much worn away where the 
hands of many generations of water-carriers had leaned 

300 



The Voice of Vesuvius 



to draw water. The excavators were at work, well over- 
looked by officials to see that no new treasures find their 
way into wrong channels. But hardly half the town has 
yet seen daylight, and many more relics and mementos 
of the first century have still to be laid bare : though not 
perhaps the gold and silver which whet ihe appetite of 
the seekers. For there is reason to believe that the more 
valuable and portable works of art were exhumed shortly 
after the catastrophe by those who knew where to find 
them. And certainly no bodies have been discovered in 
the theatre, although it was full of spectators, when so 
dreadfully overtaken without a moment's warning. 

''Where was ihe tobacconist's?" asked the Warrior, 
looking ruefully at the fag-end of his last cigar. " The 
Romans did not smoke, sir," replied Louise : for that 
was the name of the intelligent and courteous gentleman 
who conducted us through the labyrinths of the city. 

" Why not ? " inquired the Warrior. " They had 
something better to do, sir," our guide answered, as he 
conducted us into a gaudy kind of tavern with a peculiar 
sign over the door. 

" Here, you see chalked up on the wall the score of 
some young Roman, who seems to have had a thirst 
somewhat longer than his purse." And there it was : 
and, what is still more realistic, on the walls outside may 
still be read the scribblings of the little vulgar boys, who 
then, as now, expressed their feefings and opinions on 
their neighbours' doorposts, but in Latin and Oscan, 

Centuries hence some spectacled archaeologist will be 
endeavouring to elucidate, with what knowledge of 
EngUsh he may possess, the meaning of "Bobby Smith 
is a cowrd an a orful bully," scribbled in charcoal on the 

301 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



recently unearthed portico of what is believed to have 
been the B.Y.C. or the Temple of Caissa. The curator of 
the Timbuctoo Museum will express the opinion that the 
last word clearly points to the worship of Apis in the 
England Isles : and that Bobby was the mythical being 
supposed in those days to preside over the maintenance 
of law and order. A learned professor of ancient English 
will bring up his contingent, with the ingenious sugges- 
tion that cowrd is merely another form of the word 
crowd, and that the meaning of the whole passage is, 

The God of Law and Order will disperse the crowd or 
populace to the glory of Apis."" And there the matter 
will be left to rest. 

Xext day was set apart for the ascent of Vesuvius — by 
launch across the bay to the nearest point on the coast ; 
bv carriage as far as we could get ; then on horseback 
till the recent lava flow had rendered the bridle path im- 
passable : then a short way on foot : and finally (name it 
not in Gath !) by the funicular railway ! At the foot of 
the railway there is a refreshment-room, commodious and 
well supplied. But let that pass. AVe did not. Arrived 
at the summit, about 4000 feet above the sea, the pano- 
rama is said to be extremely fine. I say ''is said to be," 
for on the occasion of our visit, though the mountain 
itself was bright and sunny, the far distance was dim and 
clouded. Vesuvius was distinctly restless, and vomited 
forth huge volumes of sulphurous smoke, or rather steam 
laden with scoricC and ash. The seismograph, however, 
indicated no immediate eruption. 

''By the way," said the Warrior, addressing the Lite- 
rary Eailure, " that \^ your invention, isn't it ? '"' 

I am not sure," replied Jus, '* but if so, it must have 
302 



The Voice of Vesuvius 

been in a former existence ; for it is older than I am, 
in my present embodiment ; but perhaps you refer to the 
kinesigraph ? " 

Ah ! " said Orlando, " I knew it was some kind of a 
graph. What is a seismograph when it is at home ? " 




VESUVIUS FROM POMPEII 



Jus kindly undertook to enlighten him. 

" I will tell you, if you will listen. It is a kind of 
instrument by which earthquakes forewarn people in 
time to make their escape. Man invented the instru- 
ment, but Vulcan obligingly makes use of it. I suppose 
Professor Milne knows as much about earthquakes as 
anybody ; indeed, he may be said to be hand-in-glove 
with them. And he says they are intimately connected 

303 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



with a variety of things, and notably with the marriage 
market and the drink bill. Says he : 

" Now suppose you land in Japan. You arrive at an 
hotel, where you find every comfort, and you see around 
you a number of globe-trotters, like yourself, from every 
country under heaven. They are mostly wealthy persons 
— globe-trotters generally are — here a milhonaire New^ 
Yorker with his wife and daughters, here a German baron 
with his daughters, and here, perhaps, an Englishman 
with a similar retinue. You would like to know more 
of these people, to become more intimately acquainted 
with them. You go to bed, and fancy that you are still 
on the ocean wave, and that the vessel in which you are 
is rolling to an outrageous extent. Then you wake, and, 
as bits of the ceiling fall upon you, you scramble to 
your feet, and suddenly realise that you are enjoying an 
earthquake. Out of the door you rush, and you find 
in the corridor people as frightened as yourself, and in 
similar undress uniform. You go for the millionaires, 
and for their daughters, and perform prodigies of valour, 
and are ever afterwards regarded as a hero, and — if 
matrimony doesn't result from all that, it's your own 
fault. Again, earthquakes are directly responsible for 
the consumption of alcohol in the club at Tokio. You 
may be there enjoying a game of bilhards, when sud- 
denly the balls begin to gyrate on the table, the lamps 
swing, the cues hanging in their tin cases on the w^alls 
are turned into pendulums, and there is a general 
stampede outside. Nerves, as well as walls, are shaken, 
for this is an earthquake, and no one knows what will 
happen next. Presently all is quiet once more, and the 
visitors gradually resume their calm and return to their 

304 



The Voice of Vesuvius 



quarters. But, before they can once more settle down 
into a contented frame of mind, immense quantities of 
stimulants are disposed of.'' 

You see, therefore, how important it is that we 
should be forewarned of approaching seismic convul- 
sions, and what a useful instrument the seismograph 
must be. 

" Dear, dear," exclaimed the Warrior, that Professor 
seems to be pretty fly. Louisa says there have been a 
lot of modish weddings in Naples this week. Do you 
think we ought to be hurrying down ? " 

" We will have a look down the crater first," said 
Jus. 

All around us the ground was spread with primrose- 
tinted snow. So it seemed, but in reality it was fine 
sulphur, which drifted and rippled, and in all ways be- 
haved exactly like snow. Underneath was a soft powdery 
dust or ash of a dark brown colour, into which our feet 
sank up to the ankles. The slope of the mountain is the 
natural mechanical angle of this substance ; so that 
although the incline is steep, any one disposed to do so 
can run from top to bottom without fear of a change of 
slope. 

I have marked the roll of distant cannon ; I have 
listened to the rumbling of thunder overhead, and to the 
moaning of the wind through the swaying pine-wood ; I 
have heard the muffled drums in the Dead March at a 
warrior's funeral ; but the solemn voice of Vesuvius sur- 
passes all. The melodious roar of the crater, as you 
bend over the brink, is like the thunder-pedal-note of a 
mighty organ, or the angry wrestling of the winds pent 
up in the cavern of ^olus — immense, mysterious. How 

305 y 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



long we should have lingered there, spell-bound by that 
Titan oracle, I cannot say, for the fitful breeze veered 
about, and we had to hurry back to escape suffocation. 
Small stones, varying in size from marbles to eggs, fall 
from the sky and make little black holes in the yellow 
■sulphur carpet. If one of the smaller ones should 
chance to fall on your head, you will regret having made 
the ascent ; but if you should be struck by one of the 
larger ones, you will experience no regret. In the words 
of the poet : 

" He smole a sickly sort of smile, and curled up on the floor, 
And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more." 

The descent was more rapid than the up-climb. After 
debarking from the funicular, we ran down the winding 
path through the rugged lava, and found our carriages in 
readiness. The drivers urged on the horses at a brisk 
canter, and we were pursued from top to bottom by a 
crowd of handsome boys on horses, donkeys, and legs. 
Those on foot took short cuts, tumbling down precipices, 
and bobbing out of unexpected crevices, when we thought 
them far behind. They were a joyous, boisterous gang, 
in glorious health and spirits, and quite willing to dis- 
encumber us of any superfluous small-change that might 
be burdening our pockets or our consciences. 

After dinner that evening we entertained on board the 
Maria a troupe of seventeen Neapolitan dancers and 
singers in their picturesque native costume. Or perhaps 
I should say they entertained us. There is plenty of go 
and spirit in the music of these Southerners ; they never 
sing or play out of tune, and their movements are naturally 
graceful, and at the same time dramatic. I could not 
help contrasting them with the waits " of dear, dreary 

306 



The Voice of Vesuvius 



Old England. And now the question arises, " Are the 
English a musical nation ? " I have seen this question 
propounded in so many newspapers and magazines, in 
season and out of season, that I am heartily sick of it, 
and ashamed even to state it. I will, however, undertake 
to furnish the answer, and set the matter at rest once and 
for ever, on one condition. Let me see a scratch com- 
pany of English peasants or artisans sing, dance, and play 
as well, or half as well, as the Italians, and I will consent 
at once that we are a musical nation. Till then I say 
nothing, while readily admitting that " the waits " have 
many merits and even virtues — so long as they keep quiet 
and don't make a noise. I have no doubt there is much 
to be said for the howling dervishes — when they are fast 
asleep or well out of hearing. 

Next day we sailed across to Capri to see the wonderful 
blue cave. It is a cave, but it is neither wonderful nor 
blue. Still it is well calculated to amuse the frivolous ; 
and therefore Jus raised no objection to the expedition. 

" It will cheer the boys up," he said. " They cannot 
always be studying archaeology and ethnography." 

The yacht was stopped by the demons of the cave 
about a mile from the entrance, in order that the visitors 
might sample the nice little Caprian boats which ply in 
these waters. They are great fun. The sea was rough — 
that is for the small rowing boats, which playfully capsize 
unless you are careful in getting in and out, and which 
rapidly fill with water in any case. After a mauvais 
quart d'^heure^ the cave is entered. Any one with a 
stream or pond in his garden can make one with the like 
wonderful properties. He has only to build himself a 
grotto or shed on the margin, into which little or no light 

307 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



is permitted to enter through the air. Let him white\yash 
the walls of the grotto or dungeon, and allow the water 
to flood the floor to the depth of some feet, and the thing 
is done. The sunlight, baffled in its eftorts to get inside 
in the usual way, will dive in under the water. The law 
of refraction will operate in its ordinary prosaic and hum- 
drum fashion : the lower rays of the spectrum will wait 
outside, while the more flexible and frivolous blue and 
violet rays will duck under the doorway and tint the 
bathers within. Everything above the water wifl appear 
black. The bottom edge of the door should dip into the 
water only an inch or two. I have reason to believe that 
the peep-show rather pleased the younger members of the 
expedition. 



3^8 



CHAPTER XV 



THE ETERNAL CITY 

On New Year's Day the Com. transferred the command 
of the Maria to Jacko. We all bade farewell to the sea, 
and proceeded, like Lars Porsena, on our way for Rome. 
I do not remember how many gods we swore by, but 
somehow or other our provision hamper got left behind 
on the landing-stage. The Hon. Sec. said it was all the 
Warrior's fault, but the Warrior declared it was entirely 
due to the carelessness of the Hon. Sec. Seeing that 
one of the two must be sinning, the rest of us were 
naturally grieved and a little depressed. The steward of 
the Maria is good at making up luncheon baskets. 

We reached the Eternal City at precisely A f b, Roman 
time. Let A stand for the hour, and b for the number 
of minutes past the hour ; and the answer will give you 
the right time. 

Having worked out this easy "sum/' you will see that 
it was too late to explore anything more venerable than 
the Grand Hotel, which^ although not so ancient as 
the Temple of Remus, is nevertheless the best and most 
comfortable inn in the world. I use the word inn 
advisedly ; for to my mind it savours of all that is good 
in the resting-house of the wayfarer, while hotel recalls 

309 



Down the Stream ot Civilization 



everything that is odious. At the Grand nothing is odious. 
In the days of our grandfathers and Charles Dickens, 
inn-hfe was pleasant and picturesque. To-day hotel-life 
is the 'type of the pessimist's world of shams, swindles, 
and racket. 

Xext morning we were up with the woodpecker. In 
our country the lark is the bird by which we time our 
uprising : but in Rome it is the woodpecker. Had it 
not been for the woodpecker, Rome would never have 
existed. The wolf had suckled Romulus and Remus 
and done her best for them, but she was a poor judge 
of farinaceous food, and the weaned kinglets required 
bread-and-butter. 

Perceiving this, the woodpecker brought their meals 
regularly until the old farmer found them and took them 
home to his wife. As that lady already enjoyed the 
privilege of providing for a dozen sons of her own, she 
deserves great credit for accepting the care of the twins 
from the wolf's lair. Their real mother was Rea Silvia, 
or Xaughty Silvia. She was one of the Vestal Virgins 
and was flung with her twins into the Tiber, when, nothing 
daunted, she married a merman and lived happily ever 
after. The twins were washed up at the foot of the 
Palatine Hill, where they were rescued by the good she- 
wolf. The boys grew up so brave and beautiful that 
when they accidentally appeared one day before the 
father of Silvia, he naturally recognised them as his own 
grandsons, and they went and built Rome. The old 
man dwelt at Alba. Him they placed upon the throne 
in the stead of his brother, whom they slew. 

Then Romulus slew Remus and set up two thrones : 
one for himself and the other for his brother's ghost ; 

310 



The Eternal City 

and that is the true origin of the kingdom of Rome. 
Modern historians throw doubt on its accuracy. They 
affect to disbelieve that Mars was the father of the twins. 
They pretend that Naughty Silvia, not being supplied 
with gills, could not have lived under water — ^just as 




DAUGHTERS OF REA SILVIA 



though there were not myriads of mermaids in the sea to 
this day. 

They declare that no wolf would regard a couple of 
babies as other than a providential breakfast ; and ihey 
even go so far as to hint that the farmer knew more 
about them than he cared to disclose. I have no 
patience with these carping wiseacres. 

They have robbed us of King Arthur and his Round 
311 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Table, of bold Robin Hood and his merry men, of William 
Tell and the apple ; and unless something is done to put 
a stop to them, they will some day make away with 
Moses and the bulrushes. I like old Romulus : he is 
the first Roman I ever heard of ; and I used to think, 
and still think, it was very nice of him to build a throne 
for his brother's ghost. Slaying him was perhaps not so 
brotherly ; but what are you to do when you are building 
a wall (Romulus murum edificabat), and your brother 
comes and jumps over it just to show what a potty little 
wall it is ? Besides, we must not forget that Remus was 
the best king the Romans ever had. Ghosts are. They 
never do anything wrong. They leave their subjects free 
to manage their own concerns without interminable State 
interference. If I were the Russians, I would have a 
ghost for the next Czar. Even the Nihilists would 
respect him ; and even if they rebelled, what could they 
do ? Dynamite is powerless against ghosts. And as for 
our English Socialists, my own belief is they would all 
skedaddle if they saw a ghost gliding after them. 

One thinks of these things in the old Forum by moon- 
light j and in the shadowy Colosseum. The gigantic 
pile, 1 60 feet high, with its eighty doors, or vomitaria^ as 
the Romans inelegantly termed them, is an ellipse about 
one stadium in length and somewhat less in width. It 
was at one time rapidly disappearing owing to the greed 
of a people who had no further use for it, except as a 
stone-quarry, when a wise pope arrested its destruction 
by dedicating what was and is left of it to the memory of 
the Christian Martyrs who perished within its walls in 
the days of Diocletian. The worst of Rome — or the best 
of it — is that you cannot turn a corner without 

312 



The Eternal City 

running up against some relic of bygone times. Here is 
a temple of the days of the kings, when Mars and Minerva 
ranked above Jupiter. Here is a monument to Victor 
Emmanuel and his entry into Rome after centuries of 
dismembered Italy. Here is the square where some 
modern martyr was burned alive to satiate the implacable 
hatred of those who could not endure his astronomy. 
Here is the spot where Tiberius Gracchus was butchered 
by the Senators in broad daylight ; and there, across the 
river^ the little temple where his brother Caius fell by the 
hand of his obedient and faithful slave. As we wander 
along the Sacred Way, we pass the Tarpeian Rock on 
our left. 

Tarpeia lived at the wrong time. The Sabines and 
Romans of her day did not admire young women who 
sell their country or their honour — or both — for golden 
bracelets. If," said she to the enemy outside the gates, 
" you will promise me the ornaments you all wear on 
your left arms, I will open the gates to you by night." 
They agreed, and she opened the gates and demanded 
her reward. They seem to have mistaken her meaning, 
and flung to her, not their bracelets, but their shields, 
under the weight of which she died. And a good 
riddance ! 

The Romans were rather rough as lovers, as we know 
from the story of the thirty Sabine ladies, but they made 
excellent husbands, or the brides would not have rushed 
in at the peril of their lives between raging brothers and 
furious husbands to save themselves from being rescued. 
They no more wanted to be rescued than Emin Pasha 
did when Mr. Stanley dragged him out of his com- 
fortable African home by the hair of his head. Touching 

313 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



marriage, I wonder what English wivcs would think if a 
distinguished Cabinet ]\Iinister got up at a public meeting 
and harangued the crowd in the words of Q. ]\Ietellus 
^lacedonicus thus : If. Romans, we could do without 
wives, we should avoid much trouble : but since Xature 
has so arranged that we can neither live happily with 
them, nor live at all without them, we ought to consider 
the lasting welfare of the State rather than our own brief 
happiness.'" Tolerably matter-of fact this for a Roman 
Censor at a solemn lustration over two thousand years 
ago ; 

And now we are passing the spot where Virginius 
stabbed his pretty little daughter to save her from the 
evil eye of Appius Claudius. 

'• Then clasp me round the neck once more and give me. 
one more kiss ; 
And now, mine own dear little girl, there is no way but 
this. 

With that he lifted high the steel, and smote her in the 
side, 

And in her blood she sank to earth and with one sob she 
died. ' ' 

But that one blow overthrew the Ten Tyrants. 

I Went to See the place where Horatius kept the bridge 
in the brave da}"s of old. It is wofully disappointing. I 
almost wished I had not gone. A narrow sluggish stream 
gurgles along where once the swollen Tiber dashed. I 
suppose the water has been drawn off to supply the 
needs of a great city. Now to the sacred spot where 
Caesar fell. 

If vou have tears, prepare to shed them now. 
You all do know this mantle. I remember 



The Eternal City 



The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 
'Twas on a summer's evening in his tent, 
That day he overcame the Nervii." 

I suppose Mark Antony's speech has indeUbly coloured 
this part of Roman history for EngHshmen. Was Brutus 
right or wrong ? Patriot or assassin ? The great dramatist 
has for the majority of us answered it for all time. 

On Sunday we attended the service at St. Peter's. In 
no other temple on the face of the earth have the arts so 
powerfully combined to exalt the religious sentiment. 
The magnificent architecture, the gorgeous frescoes, 
marbles, paintings, and stained glass ; the solemn music, 
the sensuous incense, the rich vestments of the sacer- 
dotal hierarchy from pontiff to acolyte ; the majesty of 
the whole combination, together with the old and 
splendid associations of the heart and throne of 
Catholicism, are overwhelmingly impressive. Modern 
philosophers and men of science, with all their logical 
acuteness and profound reasoning, will never subjugate 
the minds of the people until they learn to appeal not 
only to the intellect but to the emotions and even to the 
senses of their hearers. What chance has the dull cold 
tongue of sober Truth against the eloquent influences of 

" The high embowed roof 
With antique pillars massy proof, 
And storied windows richly dight, 
Casting a dim religious light ; 
There let the pealing organ blow, 
To the full-voiced choir below, 
In service high and anthems clear 
As may with sweetness through mine ear 
Dissolve me into ecstasies, 
And bring all heaven before mine eyes." 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Who that has paused to listen to the prattle of the 
clear-headed and honest sophist in Hyde Park with 
greasy coat, tall hat. and outstretched, disputatious 
arm, has ever felt his soul stirred within him, as when 
wandering through ihu sumptuous fane, his eye is held 
captive by the godlike face of Jcsus Christ raising 
I.azarus — the masterpiece of Maratus, and, as I think, of 
his age. The mind of man is complex. 

The Vatican (as we briefly call it) is an oppressive 
mixture of beauty and ugliness, of wisdom and folly. 
]vlany of the paintings have nothing but their moderate 
antiquity to recommend them. Some of them are both 
stupid and vulgar, while others are execrable drawings 
redeemed by exquisite colouring. There is something 
incongruous in the transformation of the palace of the 
High Priest into a workshop for the rather common- 
place manufacture of cheap mosaics. Still the craft is an 
interesting one. the workers are skilful, and the trade is 
lucrative. The Sistine Chapel is like '34 port. It doubtless 
deserved all that was said about it by those who knew it 
in its prime, and by those who sheepishly rave about it 
now that it has lost its savour. Weather and economy 
have tosfether made havoc of the wonderful work of 

o 

Michael Angelo. 

The orange-trees in the Pope's garden are all blood 
oranges. His carriages, some of them the gifts of 
emperors, are costly and gorgeous, but whether the 
Galilean Carpenter would have found them to his taste 
is another question. Autre teinps^ autres ?nceurs. It is the 
poor who declaim about the poor man's rights, and the 
down- trodden who believe (honestly believe) in liberty. 
But there is an old saying, Set a beggar on horseback 

316 



The Eternal City 

and he will ride to the devil." Let but the masses climb 
into power and all the old shibboleths about freedom are 
cast to the winds. The tyranny of the One is a feather- 
weight compared with the tyranny of the Many. In the 
hour of prosperity how many of us profit by the lessons of 




THE VATICAN GARDENS 



adversity ? If Tarquin chastised his people with rods, 
the Republican leaders thrashed them with scorpions. 
If Louis, the self-beloved, slew his tens, Robespierre, the 
Man of the People, slew his thousands. Look to it, you 
Britons, who will never be slaves : you can hardly chop 
faggots now without a licence or plough a furrow without 
a Government certificate. 

The history of the rise and triumph of the Christian 
317 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



Church is the history of the dechne and fall of the 
Roman Empire. Of the early days of the new sect 
we know next to nothing, except that they adopted 
the principles of communism or sociahsm. Xo Christian 
could call anything his own, ''but they had all things in 
common,'" as wc read in the Acts of the Apostles. How 
far this communistic principle was carried we gather 
chiefly from their enemies, but also to some extent from 
themselves. The learned Christian Tertullian describes 
the love-feast (Agape) in language which must not be 
repeated. St. Chrysostom says, "'When that equality of 
possessions ceased, as it did even in the Apostles'" time, 
the Agape, or lovc-feast. was substituted in the room of 
it."" We are told that ''these love-feasts during the first 
three centuries were held in the church without scandal 
or offence, but in after times the heathen began to tax 
them with impurity. This gave occasion to a reformation 
of these Agapes : the kiss of charity, with which the 
Ceremony used to end. was no longer given between 
different sexes, and it was expressly forbidden to have 
any beds or couches. Notwithstanding these precautions, 
the abuses committed in them became so notorious that 
the holding them (in churches at least) was solemnly 
condemned at the Council of Carthage in the year 397." 

I decline to cite any but Christian evidence in support 
of these charges. But I may be allowed to quote a 
passage from the great historian Tacitus, and an edict of 
the Emperor Hadrian. According to the latter, any 
person falsely charging a fellow citizen with the crime 
of Christianity was to suffer the capital penalty. What 
must the charge have amounted to? Says Tacitus, 
describing the punishments inflicted on a few members 

3'S 



The Eternal City 



of the sect by Nero — it will be remembered that they 
were not unreasonably suspected of setting fire to the 
city, with fearful results— " Some were nailed on crosses ; 
others sewn up in the skins of wild beasts and exposed 
to the fury of dogs ; others, again, smeared over with 
combustible materials, were used as torches to illuminate 
the darkness of the night. The guilt of the Christians 
deserved, indeed, the most exemplary punishment, but 
the public abhorrence was changed into commiseration.'' 
Jn those days the majority of the Christians were members 
of the Jewish race, and branded with the mark of the 
Jewish faith. Tacitus is universally admitted to be a 
cultured and impartial contemporary historian, and he 
describes how ''for awhile this dire superstitio7i was 
checked ; but it again burst forth, and not only spread 
itself over Judaea, the first seat of this 77iischievous sect, 
but was even introduced into Rome, the common asylum 
of whatever is impure, whatever is atrocious Suetonius 
also refers to Christianity as "a new and maleficent 
superstition." With such external and internal evidence 
before him, the candid critic will hesitate before passing 
a sweeping condemnation on rulers who were conspicu- 
ously tolerant of all religious creeds and practices except 
such as tended to undermine the morals and the social 
life of the people. 

Moreover, we are forbidden to do so by the Christian 
victims themselves, who have expressed in the strongest 
and most emphatic terms their own unqualified approval 
of the "persecutions." "Had we been in Nero's place," 
they have told us, "or armed with the powers of Decius, 
we would have behaved as Nero and Decius behaved." 

Impossible ! " cries the reader. " When and where did 



,1 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



the Christian Church ever give utterance to such impious 
folly?" We shall see. Actions, it is admitted, speak 
louder than words. Well, the Church did chmb into 
Nero's place ; in his very garden stands the palace of the 
Vatican. Let us glide quickly down fifteen centuries 
and look around. 

It is now the 17th February 1600. A vast concourse 
of people is assembled in the largest open space in 
Rome, gathered together by the irresistible sympathy 
which men always feel with whatever is terrible and 
tragic in human existence. In the centre stands a huge 
pile of faggots ; from its logs and branches rises a stake. 
Crowding round the pile are eager and expectant faces, 
men of various ages and of various character, but all for 
one moment united in a common feeling of malignant 
triumph. Religion is about to be avenged ; a heretic is 
coming to expiate on this spot the crime of open 
defiance to the Church — the crime of teaching that the 
earth moves, and that there is an infinity of worlds. The 
stake is erected for 'the maintenance and defence of the 
Holy Church, and the rights and liberties of the same.' 
Whom does the crowd await ? Giordano Bruno, the 
poet, philosopher, and heretic, the teacher of Galileo's 
heresy, the open antagonist of Aristotle. A hush comes 
over the crowd. The procession solemnly advances, the 
soldiers peremptorily clearing the way. His face is 
placid, though pale. They offer him the crucifix; he 
turns aside his head ; he refuses to kiss it. The heretic ! 
They show him the image of Him Who died upon the 
cross for the sake of the living truth ; he refuses the 
symbol. A yell bursts from the multitude. They chain 
him to the stake. He remains silent. Will he not pray 

320 



The Eternal City 

for mercy? Will he not recant? Now the last hour 
has arrived, will he die in his obstinacy, when a little 
hypocrisy would save him so much agony ? It is even 
so. He is stubborn, unalterable. They light the faggots : 
branches crackle ; the flame ascends ; the victim writhes 
— and now we see no more. The smoke envelops him, 
but not a prayer, not a plaint, not a single cry escapes 
him. In a little while the wind has scattered the ashes 
of Giordano Bruno." 

It is but a short walk from the palace of the Vatican 
in the old gardens of Nero, stained with the blood of the 
first Christian martyrs, to the square where now stands 
the statue of Bruno. As we gazed on his steadfast 
countenance we could hear the groans of the human 
torches which illumined Nero's chariot race, and the 
malignant yell of Bruno's murderers, ^' Well done, thou 
good and faithful Nero ! May we do likewise, standing 
in your place ! " 

" Where shall we go to-night ? " asked the Com. on the 
last day of our sojourn in Rome. The question was a 
difficult one to answer. Rival attractions were manifold. 

" The Colosseum by moonlight would be my choice," 
said Clare. 

"I think," said Jus, I shall go to the service at 
St. Peter's." 

"Oh, let us all keep together," chimed in the Hon. 
Sec. It was now the Warrior's turn to speak. He was 
evidently bursting with zeal. He had a proposition to 
make. Usually he allowed himself to be guided by 
others in the selection of the subject of antiquarian or 
other research. But this time he was evidently bene on 
showing his power of initiative. 

321 X 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



"I say, you fellows," he began, "have you ever seen 
Fregoli? I see from the hoardings that he is on at the 
theatre. He's rippin' if you have not seen him. I saw 
him in London, and I would not miss seeing him again 
for a jorum of ]\[onopole. I'll stand the box.'' 

Unfortunately for Clare, the moon was too young to be 
of much use, and the clouds were dripping wet. Jus's 
plan did not fit in with the dinner-hour. Len's lens 
went to bed at sunset, after which its owner was indiffe- 
rent j and the Com., as usual, was compliant. So we 
actually spent our last evening in the Eternal City at a 
music hall, listening to the prattle of FregoH, and watch- 
ing him change his clothes with lightning rapidity. True, 
Orlando stood the entertainment, as he promised. No- 
body else could stand it. But somehow the price of it 
got mixed up in the general account, as such things do. 
However, it came to an end : and the only question is 
whether I am morally bound to record our lapse and 
shame. I do so as a warning to other philosophers to 
be careful in what company they travel in search of 
wisdom and beauty. 



322 



CHAPTER XVI 



HOMEWARD 

All the members of the expedition were now agreed 
that if, after this, they did not know all about civihza- 
tion they never would ; and it was therefore decided 
to return by easy stages to the mother country for the 
preparation of the Departmental Reports. At Pisa we 
tarried one day in order to ascertain, if possible, why the 
tower does not obey the law of gravitation — a law 
imposed by the Tyrant Newton on falling bodies, such 
as the moon and the House of Lords. We came to the 
conclusion that the tower was the exception which 
proves the rule, thereby vindicating the honour of Newton 
against the attacks of engineers, scoffers, and other 
architects. It was at Pisa that Galileo imposed a law 
on falling bodies which, though not so drastic as that 
of his English successor, was yet felt to be an invasion of 
the hberties of the object, if not of the subject. His 
modus operandi was to drop stones of various sizes on to 
the heads of passers-by from the overhanging battlement 
of the tower, and to watch the effects of the impact. I 
myself, when a mere boy, independently devised this 
experiment, for which I take some credit to myself; but 
my position of vantage was the bough of an oak-tree 

323 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



overhanging a deep lane in Yorkshire. The results 
were eminently satisfactory, but I have since learnt, 
on the authority of Charles Darwin and Sindbad the 
Sailor, that the process was well known to our remote 
ancestors. 

Says Sindbad : " We came to a great forest of trees, 
extremely straight and tall, and their trunks so smooth 
that it was not possible for any man to climb up to the 
branches that bore the fruit. All the trees were cocoa- 
trees, and when we entered the forest, we saw a great 
number of apes of several sizes that fled as soon as they 
perceived us, and chmbed up to the tops of the trees 
with surprising swiftness. . . . The apes threw cocoa- 
nuts at us so fast, and with such gestures, as sufficiently 
testified their anger and resentment." * It appears, there- 
fore, that neither Galileo nor myself can claim originafity 
in this process : but then it is said that some of the 
greatest modern discoveries and inventions have been 
anticipated by the ancients and afterwards forgotten. 
According to the eminent theologian, Mr. W. B. Wood- 
gate, gunpowder was employed by Joshua in the overthrow 
of the walls of Jericho. Joshua is said to have borrowed 
the material, together with the knowledge of its use, from 
the Chinese. Printing, again, though vulgarly attributed 
to Gutenberg, was a flourishing industry thousands of 
years ago on the banks of the Euphrates and Tigris. 
Among the ruins of Babylon have been discovered 
numerous tablets printed — that is to say, manifolded 
from a single block — all over with hieroglyphics. 

i\fter a busy day at Genoa we crossed the frontier at 
Ventimiglia, where we all had to get out of the train to 
* Scheherazade's Eighty-fourth night. 
324 



Homeward 



see to the examination of our luggage by the cunning 
Frenchman whose business it is to take care that none 
of his fellow countrymen import foreign wares without 
paying his own Government for the privilege of paying 
the foreign manufacturer. This looks like a subtle 




GALILEO'S POST OF VANTAGE 



method of cheating oneself, but as the French seem to 
like it, I have no right to complain. They also have an 
amiable trick of giving us Englishmen a small present of 
money with every pound of sugar we buy from them. 
This is distinctly kind, and entitles them to the thanks 
of all classes in our country — except perhaps the sugar 
merchants and West Indian planters. But these make 
noise enough for the whole island. 

325 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



i 



Sometimes the doiiane authorities are in a hurry ; and 
so it was on this occasion. One bag only was singled 
out for inspection. It happened to belong to the 
Warrior. Then one portmanteau was singled out. It 
also happened to belong to the Warrior. We were happily 
privileged to hsten to, and profit by, the disquisition on 
justice to which he treated all concerned. Being deli- 
vered in English, it was, I fear, lost on the smiling gentle- 
man chiefly responsible for it. Both packages proving 
innocent, all our effects were promptly whisked into the 
train for Mentone without more ado. Perhaps, by way 
of pointing a moral, I ought to mention that one of the 
unexplored trunks contained no less than fourteen pounds 
of English tobacco ; and if I refrain from doing so, it is 
simply because it is not true. Our boxes contained no 
tobacco, nor any other dutiable article. Hence the 
desired moral could be drawn from the facts only at the 
expense of veracity. Whether morality is worth what it 
costs formed the subject of one of those luminous debates 
between the Warrior and the Hon. Secretary which want 
of space alone compels me to suppress. Suffice it to say 
that no unanimous conclusion was reached. Each dispu- 
tant clung to the opinion with which he set out. 

How different it is when Jus and the Com. dispute, or 
rather reason together ! So strong are their respective 
arguments that each converts the other. Consequently 
they are constrained to begin it all over again, with the 
final result that both are again convinced, and so end 
where they started. AVhy cannot the baser sort profit by 
this beautiful example? 

It is a pity that we stayed ten days at Mentone on our 
return, for that fair retreat is in dangerous proximity to 

326 



Homeward 

Monte Carlo, the temptations of which exercised a bane- 
ful effect on the Warrior's studies. The Hotel Cap 
Martin is situated amid bewitching scenery. The soft 
sensuousness of the sweet South pervades everything, 
even its vegetation. The smooth, rounded limbs of the 




MENTONE FROM THE SEA 



plane-trees and acacias, and the listless droop of the 
palm-leaves contrast strikingly with the gnarled oaks and 
rugged pines of the North. But a prolonged diet even 
of nectar and ambrosia palls, and in the luscious orange- 
groves one is apt to yearn for the robust waywardness of 
the apple-trees of Old England's orchards. It is impos- 
sible to exaggerate the blueness of the great midland sea. 
Painters have been charged with the offence, but only by 

327 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



those who do not know. Even the transcendent posters 
of the starch-vendors must be acquitted, although, if it is 
not actionable to say so, their blue is of the wrong tint. 
The peasants of the Mediterranean lands are mostly 
picturesque and always lazy. Some of them, I regret to 
say, are also dirty — though not quite so dirty as the 
corduroyed rulers of England. 

Perhaps the Riviera, take it for all in all, has but one 
fault, and that is the pardonable fault shared by toffy and 
Tom Moore — it is too sweet. Sweet blossoms, sweet 
wines, sweet faces — all is sweet in these lands of milk and 
honey. But the reader is not concerned with our lotus- 
eating days of lazy dreaming. Science is his aim in 
perusing these didactic pages. It is enough to say that, 
retracing our steps to Genoa, we went to Milan, and 
thence, without a single halt, to London. 

Thus ended in the year 2651 a.u.c. a scientific expe- 
dition planned with the utmost sagacity, carried through 
with conspicuous ability, and fraught with inestimable 
benefit to unborn generations, more especially to all such 
as may be endowed with the intelligence to demand, and 
the means to buy, this Record of its Transactions. The 
reports of my learned, gallant, and more or less honour- 
able colleagues are in course of preparation, and will be 
laid before the public in the fulness of time — that is to 
say, as soon as the butterman's stock of wrappers is run 
out. They comprise, as I have already forewarned my 
readers, a rapid but exhaustive analysis of the world's art, 
by the Hon. Sec, illustrated by Len's lens ; a novel and 
compendious review of the world's laws, from the first 
law of motion to the last by-law of the B.Y.C., by our 
Legal Luminary ; a bulky volume of statistics showing 

328 



Homeward 

the population of the world at the most important eras,* 
and furnishing an answer to the question, Is life worth 
living?" by the Com.; a thrilling economic monograph 
by the Rich Banker, explaining how money circulates, 
has circulated, and ever will circulate, under varying 




THE LAST COMMITTEE MEETING 



conditions, and more particularly in periods of panic, 
poker, and other commercial crises ; a synoptic view of 
the evolution of sport, by the 'Varsity Man ; and, finally, 
a complete military atlas, by the Wily Warrior, containing 

* He is of opinion that the population of the world at the 
Adamite era may be roughly estimated at One ; and that at the 
present day it probably amounts to considerably more. Other 
eras he regards as of no importance. — Ed. 

329 



Down the Stream of Civilization 



plans of all the great battlefields of civilization, from the 
Trojan War to the fight bet^Yeen Peter Jackson and Jem 
Jeffries in the present year. With these will be given 
away without further charge a full-length portrait of 
Jacko as he appeared when in command of the Maria 
on New Year's Day 1898, and a symphony entitled 
" Shooting the Cataract,'" specially composed for the 
occasion by the crew of the Nitocris. 



Printed by Ballaxtyxe, Hanson & Co. 
London and Edinburgh 



WORKS BY THE SAME 
AUTHOR 



PRINCIPLES OF PLUTOLOGY 

INDIVIDUALISM, A SYSTEM OF 
POLITICS 

MEASURES: PAST, PRESENT, 
AND FUTURE 

LAW IN A FREE STATE 



PUBLICATIONS OF 
GEORGE NEWNES 
LIMITED 




7-12 SOUTHAMPTON ST. 
STRAND, LONDON, W.C 

11/98 



Illustrated Books. 

FARTHEST NORTH. 

Being the Record of a Voyage of Exploration of the 
ship Fram^ 1893-96, and of a Fifteen Months' Sledge 
Journey by Dr Xansen and Lieut. Johansen. With an 
Appendix by Otto Sverdrup, Captain of the Fra^n. 
Popular edition. In 2 vols., royal 8vo. With about 
120 full-page and 90 text Illustrations. Coloured 
Plate and Map, cloth extra, 17s. 

•'The narrative of one of the most remarkable and adventurous 
vo3-ages of discovery that have been made." — Scotsman. 

" A masterpiece of storv-telling." — Tirdes. 

FLASHLIGHTS ON NATURE. 

By Grant Allex. With 150 Illustrations by 
Frederick Enock. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 6s. 
Charming and romantic scientific chats." — Review of Revieivs, 

DOWN THE STREAM OF CIVILIZATION. 

By Wordsworth Doxisthorpe. With 104 Illustra- 
tions from Photographs. Crown 8vo, cloth extra. 6s. 
WELLINGTON AND WATERLOO. 

By Major Arthur Griffiths. With an Introduction 
by Field-?vlarshal \''iscount WOLSELEY. Profusely 
Illustrated. Demy 4to, cloth extra, los. 6d. 
"Pen and camera have worked well together in this handsome 
quarto volume." — Daily Xews. 

••'An important volume, excellently calculated to make a charming 
gift-book. — St James s Gazette. 

RAIDERS AND REBELS IN SOUTH AFRICA. 
By Mrs GOODWIX Greex. With 14 full-page Illus- 
trations by the Author. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 5s. 

ENGLAND'S HISTORY, as Pictured by Famous 
Paixters. 

An Album of 256 Historical Pictures, with descriptive 
text. Edited by A. G. Temple, F.S.A. Oblong 4to, 
cloth extra, gilt leaves, los. 6d. 
"... Large photographic reproductions of more or less notable 
pictui-es. chronologically arranged, commencing with Lord Leighton's 
'Commerce Between the Ancient Britons and the Phoenicians,' and 
ending with Mr C. \V. Purse's spirited picture of ' The Battle of Doorn- 
kop — from the Boer Position,' thus presenting, from the earliest times 
down to yesterday, notable scenes in our history as realised by artists 
of good standing." — Birjninghain Daily Post. 

ENGLISH CATHEDRALS ILLUSTRATED. 

By Fraxcis Boxd, M.A., F.G.S., Hon. A.R.I. B.A. 
With 188 Illustrations from Photographs. Crown 8vo, 
cloth extra. [/;/ the press. 



LOXDOX : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



Illustrated Books. 

THE ART BIBLE. 

Comprising the text of the Old and New Testaments, 
printed in entirely new type, specially selected for its 
clearness and sharpness of outhne, and with 850 Illus- 
trations, Maps, &c. 
In One Volume, 1,360 pp. super royal 8vo, handsomely bound in 
cloth, gilt leaves, I2s. ; French morocco, bevelled boards, 
tooled in gold and blind, gilt leaves, i6s. ; plain Persian 
morocco, gilt leaves, iSs. ; Persian morocco, antique scroll 
in gold, gilt leaves, 21s. ; limp morocco. Yapp style, flex- 
ible back, solid gold leaves, 30s. ; Turkey morocco, hand- 
tooled in gold, solid gold leaves, 38s. 

OLD TESTAMENT, with 660 Illustrations, handsomely 
bound in cloth, gilt leaves, 9s. 

NEW TESTAMENT, with 190 Illustrations, handsomely 
bound in cloth, gilt leaves, 5s. 

Canon Basil Wilberforce writes: — " I think that the illustra- 
tions are excellent, and that in producing this book at such a low 
price you have done a public service, and materially added to the 
interest of the study of the Scriptures." 

THE SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON. 

A New Version by E. A. Brayley Hodgetts, with 
100 Illustrations by J. Finnemore. Royal 8vo, cloth 
extra, gilt leaves, los. 6d. 

" Will cause delight in many households." — Westminster Gazette. 

*'By far the best and most handsome translation that has yet 
appeared . . . taken direct from the German and the language is 
far more terse and effective than that of those from the French 
version. " — Standard. 

ROUND THE WORLD, from London Bridge to 
Charing Cross, via Yokohama and Chicago. 
An Album of 284 Pictures from Photographs of the 
Chief Places of Interest in all Parts of the World, 
With, descriptive text. Oblong 4to, cloth extra, gilt 
leaves, los. 6d. 
' ' We are taken through all the principal cities and picturesque 
and historic places from Calais to Brindisi, we mentally travel up the 
Nile, we go through all the great commercial and historic scenes in 
India, Malaysia, China, and Japan before crossing to the American 
Continent, we are given views of the forests, rivers, and mountains 
of the new world, the cities that are dotted over its bosom, and all 
the sights from the Falls of Niagara down to the silver mountain of 
Potosi and the streets of Buenos Ayres. In short, the work is as 
complete as it is possible to make it." — The Stock Exchange. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



Illustrated Books. 



ROUND THE COAST. 

An Album of 284 Pictures from Recent Photographs 
of the Watering Places and Resorts in the United 
Kingdom, with descriptive text. Oblong 4to, cloth 
extra, gilt leaves, los. 6d. 
' ' We know nothing at anything hke the price that can be com- 
pared with these for giving to the sedentary traveller veracious 
glimpses of what the world or his own seashores contains that is 
interesting and pictm-esque." — Times. 

ROUND LONDON. 

An Album of 284 Pictures from Photographs of the 
Chief Places of Interest in and around London, with 
descriptive text. Oblong 4to, cloth extra, gilt, ids. 6d. 

"The illustrations are taken from photographs, of the most 
notable and characteristic of the metropolitan sights. Few quarters 
of London or aspects of London life are neglected ; its business and 
its pleasures, its architecture and its street traffic receive illustration 
in all their phases. The photographs have been admirably repro- 
duced. ' ' — Scotsman. 

THE THAMES ILLUSTRATED. A Picturesque 
Journeying from Richmond to Oxford. 164 
large and 170 small Photographic Plates, with descrip- 
tive text, 4to, cloth extra, gilt leaves, los. 6d. 
"... A marvel at the price. The illustrations are very numerous 
and exceedingly beautiful, every picturesque nook and cranny having 
been sought out, and no such charming souvenir of the Thames or incite- 
ment to enjoy its beauties is in existence." — Ar77iy and Navy Gazette, 

ALL ABOUT ANIMALS. 

260 Illustrations of Animal Life, from Photographs by 
Gambier Bolton, F.Z.S., and others, with explanatory 
text. Oblong 4to, cloth extra, gilt leaves, los. 6d. 
"Not a dry and scientific work, but brightly \\Titten and well 
illustrated. Well illustrated it certainly is. Mr Gambier Bolton's 
photographs of lions, tigers, leopards, and other feline creatures have 
never been surpassed, and hundreds of such pictures are to follow. 
It is really a wonderful production." — Army and Navy Gazette. 

ZIG-ZAGS AT THE ZOO. 

By Arthur Morrison and J. A. Shepherd. 236 
pp., super royal 8vo, cloth extra, 7s. 6d. 

" ' Zig-Zags at the Zoo ' is a necessary volume to all people who are 
fond of animals and gifted with a sense of humour." — Spectator. 
" A most delightful book." — Glasgow Herald. 
' ' Charming volume. " — World. 

"Letterpress and illustrations are both replete with droller}^ and 
harmless fun." — Morning Post. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



Illustrated Books. 



NEW GROUND IN NORWAY. 

Ringerike — Telemarken — Sastersdalen. By E. J. 
Goodman. With numerous Illustrations. Demy 8vo, 
cloth extra, los. 6d. 

' ' Full of information as to the less frequented parts of Southern 
Norway. . , . Well printed and capitally illustrated." — Pall Mall 
Gazette. 

THE WAY OF THE CROSS : a Pictorial Pil- 
grimage FROM Bethlehem to Calvary. 

240 Views of the Holy Land from Photographs, with 
descriptive text. Oblong 4to, cloth extra, gilt leaves, 
8s. 6d. 

" Some remarkably fine views." — Standard. 

' ' This triumph of art, whose every leaf preaches a sermon and 
brings us in touch with the past." — Catholic Times, , 

PRETTY HOMES. 

By Mrs HORSFALL. 168 pp. With 60 Illustrations. 
8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. 

THE STRAND MAGAZINE. 

An Illustrated Magazine. Edited by GEORGE 
Newnes. Vols. 12 to 15, cloth extra, gilt leaves. 
Price 6s. 6d. each. [Vols, i to 11 are out of print.] 

WIDE WORLD MAGAZINE. 

Vol. I., cloth extra, gilt leaves, 6s. 6d. 

THE NAVY AND ARMY ILLUSTRATED. 

Vols. I to 5, bound in cloth extra, gilt leaves, 12s. each. 
Vol. 6, 1 8s. 

COUNTRY LIFE ILLUSTRATED. 

The Journal for all interested in Country Life and 
Country Pursuits. Profusely Illustrated. Vols, i 
to 3, folio cloth, gilt leaves, 21s. ; half morocco, 25s. 

THE HOME MAGAZINE. 
Vol. I, cloth, 5s. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



The New Atlas. 



THE CITIZEN'S ATLAS. 

Comprising loo Maps and Gazetteer. Edited by 
J. G. Bartholomew, F.R.G.S. Crown folio, cloth 
extra, i6s. net : half-morocco, i8s. 6d. net. 



The Stratford-on-Avon Shakespeare. 

THE WORKS OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. 
With Glossarial Side-notes. Complete in 12 vols., 
bound in cloth, with cut or uncut edges, i8s. ; or, 
enclosed in a quaint cloth box, 21s. ; also in half- 
morocco, gilt top, 55s. ; crushed grained Persian 
morocco, in box, 70s., or straight paste grained, gilt 
tops, in box, with steel clasp, 50s. 

' ' We can unhesitatingly say that the Newnes edition is quite the 
most handy and readable edition which we have as yet seen— and the 
number of editions with which we are acquainted is legion. A wise 
discretion has been exercised as to the size of the volume, which is 
not too small — as is the case with many existing ' pocket ' editions — 
whilst the semi-antique ' laid ' paper, and the absolutely perfect 
typography, reflect great credit both on the firm which initiated the 
work and on the printers who produced it. It is not encumbered 
with notes, but all needful glossarial explanations are ingeniously 
embedded in small type in the text." — Broad Arrow. 

"A handy, well printed edition." — Athe7i(Bum. 

" Admirable little edition." — Star, 

"The typography is excellent." — Globe. 

" There could be no better edition for general use." — Scotsman. 

"The size is suitable alike for the bookshelf and the pocket. 
The type of the text is bold and clear, on antique paper. The tiny 
side-notes are explanatory only of such obscure words and phrases 
as are not readily explained by the context. The title-page, which 
follows the lines of that of the first folio edition, may be taken as an 
indication of an intention to follow as closely as possible the text of 
the early editions, which were ' the freshest from Shakespeare's own 
hands.' " — Daily News. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



specimen Page of the 

Stratford-on-Avon Shakespeare 
Hamlet 



Ham, The king doth wake to-night and takes 
his rouse, 

Keeps wassail, and the swaggering upspring 
reels ; 

And as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, 
The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out 
The triumph of his pledge. 
Hov» Is it a custom ? 

c3 Ham, Ay, marry is 't ; 

But to my mind, though I am native here 

And to the manner born, it is a custom 

More honour'd in the breach than the observ- 

^ ance. 

*^ This heavy-headed revel east and west [blamed 

Makes us traduc'd and tax'd* of other nations : 
i They clepe* us drunkards, and with swinish [call 
phrase 

Soil our addition*; and indeed it takes [title 
§ From our achievements, though perform'd at 
•K^ height, 

^ The pith and marrow of our attribute. 

I So, oft it chances in particular men, 
^ That for some vicious mole of nature in them, 
1:^ As, in their birth — wherein they are not guilty, 
Since nature cannot choose his origin — 

M By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,* 

[natural disposition 

Oft breaking dovm the pales and forts of reason, 
Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens 
The form of plausive manners, that these men, 
Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, 
Being nature's livery, or fortune's star, — 
Their virtues else — be they as pure as grace, 
As infinite as man may undergo* — [experience 
Shall in the general censure take corruption 
From that particular fault : the dram of eale*[? evu 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS, 



The New Library. 

A Series of Books of permanent value and interest — 
grave and gay — poetry and prose, — entirely free from 
editorial prefaces, comments, and appreciations."' Each 
volume is tastefully printed on antique wove paper, and 
issued in a specially designed binding, gilt top, price 2s. 6d. 
each. 

SHAKSPEARE'S HEROINES : Characteristics 
OF Women — Moral, Poetical, and Historical. 
By Mrs JAMESON, Author of " Sacred and Legendary 
Art,'^ &c. 

"The most charming of all the works of a charming wTiter." — 
Blackivood s Mcgazi?ie, 

" It will always remain one of the classics of the Shakespearian 
criticism. ' ' — Gloie, 

THACKERAY'S CHRISTMAS BOOKS. 

Mrs Perkins's Ball, Our Street, Dr Birch and His 
Young Friends, Rebecca and Rowena, The Kickle- 
burvs on the Rhine, The Rose and the Ring. In one 
Vol 

' ' Another welcome reprint. " — Monii?ig Post. 

VISITS TO MONASTERIES OF THE LEVANT. 
By the Hon. Robert Curzon, Jun. (Baron de la 
Zouche). With Sketch IMaps and Illustrations. 

" One of those fascinating books of travel which have taken a place 
in permanent literature." — Times. 

THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 

Thoughts in Verse for the Sundays and Holy Days 
throughout the Year. By JOHN Keble. 

NORTH AND SOUTH. 

By Mrs Gaskell. 
" Capital edition of a charming story." — Manchester Courier, 

LAVENGRO : THE SCHOLAR— THE GYPSY— 
THE PRIEST. 
By Geo. Borrow. 

'■■ a marvel of cheap excellence." — Weekly Sun. 

EOTHEN. 

By A. W. KiNGLAKE. \Vith 40 Illustrations by H. R. 
Millar. 

EVELINiV : or. The History of a Young Lady's 
Entrance into the World. 
By Frances Burney. With 16 Full-page Illustra- 
tions by Arthur Rackham. 

Other Volumes iii the Press. 



LONDON : GEORGE NE^VNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



*M very useful series of small manuals on subjects of 
common interest. " — Spectator. 

The 

Library of Useful Stories. 

Small SvOj cloth^ price \s. each Volume, post free is. 2d. 

' ' The more Science advances^ the 7nore it becomes concentrated 
in little books''' — Leibnitz. 

I. 

THE STORY OF THE STARS. 

By G. F. Chambers, F.R.A.S., Author of " Handbook 
of Descriptive and Practical Astronomy," &c. With 
24 Illustrations. 

" Mr Chambers writes in a vigorous and attractive style, and shows 
himself able to combine to an uncommon degree scientific accuracy 
of statement with a clear and attractive exposition. Beginners in 
astronomy who wish to acquaint themselves merely with the outlines 
of a noble science will find this volume of real service." — Speaker. 

*'Told in a pleasing and attractive manner." — Athenceum. 

II. 

THE STORY OF PRIMITIVE MAN. 

By Edward Clodd, Author of " The Story of Crea- 
tion," &c. With 88 Illustrations. 

" It possesses the chief qualities that go to make a good book for 
the average man." — Nature. 

"Well printed, well bound, profusely illustrated, and in every 
respect capital material, on one of the most progressive of sciences." 
— Daily Chronicle. 

III. 

THE STORY OF THE PLANTS. 

By Grant Allen. With 49 Illustrations. 

' ' A brightly written, clear and accurate summary of the functions 
and habits of plants." — Daily Chronicle. 

"The whole book is excellent, but special praise is due to his 
exposition of the relations existing between plants and insects. Many 
chapters of the story he tells must prove to the uninitiated as exciting 
as a romance." — Aberdeen Free Press. 

IV. 

THE STORY OF THE EARTH IN PAST AGES. 
By H. G. Seeley, F.R.S., Professor of Geology, 
Geography, and Mineralogy in King's College, London. 
With 40 Illustrations. 

" A simple and popular summing up of the results that have been 
reached by geological science." — Scotsman. 

"Told plainly and pleasantly for a popular audience." — Bookman. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



The 

Library of Useful Stories. 

V. 

THE STORY OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM. 

By G. F. Chambers, F.R.A.S. With 28 lUustrations. 

" His descriptions possess the double quality of simplicity and at- 
tractiveness." — Xature. 

" He repudiates the idea that unless a man can command a big 
telescope he is not in a position to do useful work in astronomy. . . . 
The little volume is an admirable example of science made easy with- 
out the sacrifice of strict accuracy of statement." — Speaker. 

VI. 

THE STORY OF A PIECE OF COAL. 
By E. A. Martin. With 38 Illustrations. 

" Treated with wonderful skill, simplicity, and thoroughness," — 
Bookselle?'. 

"Explains in simple and delightful fashion what coal is. whence 
it comes, and whither it goes, and in the concluding chapters shows 
how intimately it is connected with the interests of the botanist, the 
geologist, the physicist, the chemist, and the merchant." — Bradford 
Observer. 

VII. 

THE STORY OF ELECTRICITY. 

By J. MUNRO, Joint Author of "The Pocket-book of 
Electrical Rules and Tables.*' With 100 Illustrations. 

' * Just the kind of book to give the general reader more correct 
views of the subject than many a pretentious tome." — The Electrical 

Engi?ieer, 

' ' For general interest we must pronounce the little book without 
a peer, style and matter being alike excellent." — Glasgow Daily 
Mail. ' 

' ' A handy little book which has certainly the great merit of being 
up to date. We anticipate a large demand for the book." — 
Electricity. 

VIII. 

THE STORY OF EXTINCT CIVILIZATIONS 
OF THE EAST. 
By R. E. Anderson, M.A.. contributor to Chambers' 

Encyclopcedia, Encyclopsedia Britannica, and Dic- 
tionary of National Biography, Sac. With Maps. 
"The author has performed a much needed service in a masterly 

manner. . . . We have nothing but praise for the work." — Literary 

World. 

"An admirable compendium of a department of knowledge which 
has been greatly advanced by the research of recent years." — Aberdeen 
Free Press. 



LONDON 



GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



The 

Library of Useful Stories. 

IX. 

THE STORY OF THE CHEMICAL ELEMENTS. 
By M. M. Pattison Muir, M.A., Fellow and Pras- 
lector in Chemistry of Gonville and Caius College, 
Cambridge. 

" One of the most perfect popular introductions to science extant." 
— British Medical Journal. 

' ' Prof. Muir tells an enthralling story of the wonderful transforma- 
tions of matter under the chemist's magic wand. Ignoring formulae 
he appeals in homely phrase to the imagination of the reader." — 
Knowledge, 

X. 

THE STORY OF FOREST AND STREAM. 

By James Rodway, F.L.S., Author of " In the Guiana 
Forest," &c. With 27 Illustrations. 

''Contains a short description of a tropical forest, together with 
some elementary lessons which can be learned by studying the in- 
cessant struggle for existence of its varied flora." — Academy. 

"A noteworthy addition to the series in which it appears." — Scots- 
man. 

XI. 

THE STORY OF THE WEATHER. 

By G. F. Chambers, F.R.A.S., of the Inner Temple, 
Author of "Story of the Stars," &c. With 50 
Illustrations. 

"An interesting volume about weather, and especially English 
weather, and presents facts, ideas, and suggestions which ordinary 
people will be glad to know." — St James s Budget. 

* ' Shows how the weather forecasts are drawn up at the Meteoro- 
logical Office, explains the construction and use of the various 
meteorological instruments, describes the nature and causes of such 
phenomena as the aurora boreahs, and gives a collection of weather 
facts and signs." — Literary World. 

XII. 

THE STORY OF THE EARTH'S ATMOSPHERE. 
By Douglas Archibald, M.A., Fellow and some- 
time Vice-President of the Royal Meteorological 
Society, London. With 44 Illustrations. 
' ' One of the best of the Story series that we have read . . . the 
author is frequently able from his wide travels to illustrate his remarks 
from his own personal experience in climates where meteorological 
manifestations can be witnessed on a grander scale than in our own 
country. " — Nature. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



The 

Library of Useful Stories. 

XIII. 

THE STORY OF GERM LIFE : Bacteria. 
By H. W. Conn. With 34 Illustrations. 

" Though a popular work, the Story of Germ Life, as told by Prof. 
H. W. Conn, is so admirable for its lucidity, terseness, and the 
author's grasp of the subject that it may be recommended to anyone 
who is desirous of becoming acquainted with the general features of 
bacterial Hfe and the baneful and beneficial results of micro bic growth 
and development. The Story of Germ Life is told in six chapters 
wherein, after dealing with their morphology, the uses of bacteria in 
the arts and industries, their importance for dairying and agriculture, 
and their relation to disease are described. Not the least interesting 
and important part of the work is that which touches on immunity, 
antitoxins, and preventative medicine." — Journal of Royal Microscopi- 
cal Society, 

XIV. 

THE STORY OF THE POTTER. 

An account of the rise and progress of the principal 
manufactures of Pottery and Porcelain. By C. F. 
BiNNS. With 57 Illustrations. 

" One of an admirable semi-scientific series, and describes the 

development of one of the oldest and most picturesque industries in 

the world." — Bradford Observer . 

" Instructive and useful little book." — Western Merctiry. - 

' ' We can recommend the whole volume to all who care to know 

something of one of the oldest and most universal of human arts." — 

Gtiardian. 

XV. 

THE STORY OF BRITISH COINAGE. 

By G. B. Rawlings. With 108 Illustrations from 
Coins in the British Museum. 

" An excellent little handbook of a subject which should have an 
attraction for many Englishmen, even though they are not very ardent 
students of numismatics in general." — Times. 

"An admirable book, for which no praise could be too high. 
It would make a capital comment on the history of England." — 
Scotsman, 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



The 

Library of Useful Stories. 

XVI. 

THE STORY OF LIFE IN THE SEAS. 

By Sydney J. Hickson, D.Sc, F.R.S., Professor of 
Zoology in the Owen's College, Manchester. 42 Illustns. 
Prof. Hickson is assuredly to be congratulated on the very able 
manner in which he has acquitted himself of his task. In the course 
of eight chapters, written in pleasant and unaffected style, he gives a 
fairly complete sketch of the vertebrate and invertebrate fauna associ- 
ated with different marine regions, the surface, the shallow water, and 
the depths." — Saturday Review, 

' * Such books as these lay the reader under a deep obHgation to 
writers of Dr Hickson's eminence in the scientific world." — Spectator. 

XVII. 

THE STORY OF PHOTOGRAPHY. 
By A. T. Story. With Illustrations. 

"An interesting popular sketch of a subject the more common 
books about which are generally of a purely technical character, de- 
signed to inform amateurs. Mr Story does not profess to give instruc- 
tions in the art ; but his history of its progress, his description of the 
various forms of apparatus and the various processes, and his state- 
ments of the relation between photography and the finer arts cannot 
but impart an intelligent interest in this versatile handmaiden of 
science. " — Scotsman, 

XVIII. 

THE STORY OF RELIGIONS. 
By E. D. Price, F.G.S. 

XIX. 

THE STORY OF THE COTTON PLANT. 

By F. Wilkinson, F.G.S., Director of the Textile and 
Engineering School, Bolton. With 38 Illustrations. 

XX. 

THE STORY OF GEOGRAPHICAL DISCOVERY. 
By Joseph Jacobs. With 24 Maps, etc. 

XXI. 

THE STORY OF THE MIND. 
By Professor J. M. Baldwin. 

XXII. 

THE STORY OF THE BRITISH RACE. 
By John Munro. With four Maps. 



LONDON: GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS; 



I 



Conan Doyle's Stories. 

THE EXPLOITS OF BRIGADIER GERARD. 

With 24 Illustrations by W. B. Wollen. Crown 8vo, 
cloth, 6s. 

" In these days of pessimistic problem novels, when the element of 
romance seems to be fading out of fiction, it is delightful to come 
upon these tales and glories of a soldier's life. They are buoyant, 
vital, steeped in the stir and freshness of the open air, abounding in 
tragedy and gaiety. ... It is a fascinating book, and one to be 
read." — Daily Xews. 

ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. 

With 25 Illustrations by Sidney Paget. Crown 8vo, 
cloth, 3s. 6d. 

" For those to whom the good, honest, breathless detective story is 
dear, Dr Doyle's book will prove a veritable godsend." — Athe7icBuni, 

LAST ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. 
With 25 Illustrations by Sidney Paget. Crown 8vo, 
cloth, 3s. 6d. 

" Should become a favourite gift book." — Liverpool Mercnry. 

THE SIGN OF FOUR. 

An Earlier Adventure of Sherlock Holmes. Crown 
8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. 

* ' The ' Adventures of Sherlock Holmes ' should be read by all who 
desire to improve their faculty of observation. Fathers would do well 
to make it a birthday present to their boys, and if they do this, they 
certainly may have the comforting thought that the book will be read 
from beginning to end." — Glamorgan Gazette. 



THE ROMANCE OF HISTORY. 

By Herbert Greenhough Smith. 292 pp., crown 
8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. 

A series of gi-aphic sketches of the leading incidents in the lives of 
Masaniello, Prince Rupert, Marino Faliero, Bayard, Lithgow, 
Jacqueline de Laguette, Vidocq, Lochiel, Casanova. The volume is 
printed on antique paper, and bound in old style with uncut edges. 

' ' Seldom has the old adage that truth is stranger than fiction been 
better exemplified than in some of the incidents related in ' The 
Romance of History. ' The book is well written and both the subjects 
selected and the way in which they are treated leave little to be 
desired. " — Mor?iing Post, 

"Pre-eminently interesting, bright, clear and attractive." — Daily 
Chro7iicle. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



Popular Novels. 



AT THE SIGN OF THE GOLDEN HORN. 
By John K. Leys. Crown 8vo, doth, 3s. 6d. 

SHAFTS FROM AN EASTERN QUIVER. 

By Charles J. Mansford. With 25 Illustrations by 
Alfred Pearse. Cloth, 3s. 6d. 

' ' Mr Mansford has the gift of a story-teller, and he uniformly 
writes like a scholar. . . . The illustrations, though small, are ad- 
mirably executed, and enhance the piquancy — though that was hardly 
needed — of the letterpress." — Spectator, 

THE BEECHCOURT MYSTERY. 
By Carlton Strange. Cloth, 3s. 6d. 

"A novel and well-constructed plot." — Liverpool Courier, 

WHAT'S BRED IN THE BONE. 
By Grant Allen. Cloth, 3s. 6d. 

HEARTS OF GOLD AND HEARTS OF STEEL. 
By the late Henry Herman. Cloth, 3s. 6d. 

FOR GOD AND THE CZAR. 

A Story of Jewish Persecutions in Russia. By J. E. 
MUDDOCK. Cloth, 3s. 6d. 

ONLY A WOMAN'S HEART. 

The Story of a Woman's Love : A Woman's Sorrow. 
By J. E. MUDDOCK. Cloth, 3s. 6d. 

" Has an air of heartiness about it, and its plot is well worked out." 
— Academy. 

THE RUBIES OF RAJMAR ; or, Mr Charlecote's 
Daughters. 

A Romance. By Mrs Egerton Eastwick (Pleydell 
North). Cloth, 3s. 6d. 

" Throughout, the plot is well conceived, its treatment is terse and 
vigorous, and the series of exciting incidents by which the dinouement 
is reached, form a narrative well worth reading." — W. Le Queux in 
The Literary World, 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



Popular Novels. 



THE KING OF THE BRONCOS, and Other 
Stories of New Mexico. 
By Chas. J. LuMMis. With Portrait and 8 full-page 
Illustrations. Cloth, 5s. 

" The author has fallen under the spell of the wilderness, and writes 
of it with affection. . . . All the stories are excellent reading, and 
some of them are dramatic." — Ma7ichester Gtmrdia?!. 

" All boys will enjoy ' The King of the Broncos ' . . . truly exciting 
stories of a West which is still largely deserving of the title of wild." — 
Daily Telegraph. 

THE KING'S OAK, and Other Stories. 

By Robert Cromie, Author of "The Crack of 
Doom," &c. 130 pp., IS. Cloth, 2s. 

" Five well-WTitten and entertaining stories." — Literary World. 

" Short stories, bright and dramatic." — To-day. 

" A capital collection of short stories." — Black a?id White. 

THE LOST LINER. 

By Robert Cromie. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. 

STORIES FROM THE DIARY OF A DOCTOR. 
By L. T. Meade and Clifford Halifax, M.D., 
Authors of " The IMedicine Lady." With 24 Illustra- 
tions by A. Pearse. Cloth extra, 6s. 

" Cleverly-planned and brightly-told stories." — Bradford Observer. 
" They are well told and salient in every feature." — Leeds Mercury. 

MEMOIRS OF A MOTHER-IN-LAW. 

By George R. Sims. Cloth, 2s. 6d. 

" This is a pleasant sample of ' Dagonet's ' semi-humorous writings. 
He has a peculiar talent of finding amusement in experiences relating 
to dwellings, servants, shopkeepers, tradespeople, and other folk con- 
nected with the domestic household, and the ' Mother-in-Law ' in his 
new book deals in a very masterful way N^ith all the foregoing subjects, 
and many more besides." — Free??mn' s Journal. 



TWO GIRLS. 

By Amy E. Blanchard. With Illustrations by Ida 
Waugh. Cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 

"A delightful addition to the girls' bookshelf." — Ge?Ltlewoma?i. 
"A bright sparkling story for girls, brimful of innocent fun."— 
Liverpool Courier. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



The Queen and her Reign, 



PIONEER WOMEN IN VICTORIA'S REIGN. 
Being short Histories of Great Movements. By EDWIN 
A. Pratt. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s. 

"A survey given with great skill and effect." — Times. 

"His chapters on Women's Work in Emigration and in Medicine 
are admirable." — Pall Mall Gazette. 

' ' The nursing record of Queen Victoria's Reign, ably told here, will 
interest so many people just now." — St Jameses Gazette. 

A WOMAN'S WORK FOR WOMEN. 

Being an account of the Philanthropic Work of Miss 
L. M. Hubbard. By E. A. Pratt. Small crown 
8vo, cloth. 

QUEEN VICTORIA'S DOLLS. 

By Frances H. Low. With 40 Full-page Coloured 
Illustrations and numerous Sketches and Initial Letters, 
by Alan Wright. Cheap Edition, crown 4to, 5s. 
' ' No one who has not perused this entertaining record can in reality 

appreciate the diligent, alert child-life of Britain's truest gentlewoman. 

The full-page coloured illustration, showing the dolls in their gorgeous 

costumes, and wooden attitudes, are almost as naive as they are 

excellent. " — Tke Gentlewoman. 

THE PRINCESS OF WALES: A Biographical 
Sketch. 

By Mary Spencer-Warren. With Portraits of the 
Princess at various periods, and Illustrations from 
Photographs taken in Denmark, and at Sandringham, 
Marlborough House, &c. With 53 Portraits and 
Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 5s. 

"An excellent biography . . . narrated with admirable simplicity 
and lucidity." — Westminster Review. 

HEROES OF THE VICTORIA CROSS. 

By T. E. ToOMEY, late Colour-Sergeant. A record of 
the "Cross" and its Wearers, with Narratives of Daring 
Deeds, and 228 Portraits. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s. 
"The value, utility, and interest of the book are obvious." 

— Liverpool Courier. 

THE VICTORIAN ERA : A Graphic Record of 
A Glorious Reign. 
By R. E. Anderson, M.A. With 136 Illustrations 
and with Photographic Portrait of the Queen. Cloth, 2S. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



THE ORACLE ENCYCLOP-^DIA. 

Profusely Illustrated. Edited by R. W. Egerton 
Eastwick, B.A. (of the Middle Temple), complete in 
5 vols., price 30s., or in half morocco, 52s. 6d. 



SONGS OF CHILDHOOD. 

Verses by Eugene Field. Music by Reginald 
DE KOVEN and others. Music 4to, cloth extra, gilt 
leaves, 7s. 6d. 

" It is the best compliment to the music to say that its pretty tune- 
fulness is not unworthy of the words. There are songs here that will 
go straight to a child's heart, and not one that will miss the child- 
lover," — Pall Mall Gazette. 

A LITTLE BOOK OF PLAYS, FOR PROFES- 
SIONAL AND AMATEUR ACTORS. 
Adapted from the French by Constance Beerbohm. 
With 22 Illustrations of Scenes. Paper covers, is. 

"An excellent collection of short dramatic sketches, suited to the 
requirements of amateurs." — Black a7id White. 



AIDS TO HEALTH AND BEAUTY. 

A Complete Toilet Guide. By Miranda. Long 
8vo, IS. 

WRINKLES FOR CYCLISTS. 

By G. Lacy Hillier. Small crown 8vo, is. 

THE HUB CYCLING MAP OF ENGLAND AND 
WALES. 

By J. Bartholomew, F.R.G.S. Printed in colours 
and folded in pocket case, 6d. ; mounted on linen, is. 

THE COAST TRIPS OF GREAT BRITAIN. 

Prefaced by a Description of the Thames Scenery 
from London Bridge to the Nore. Compiled by 
Milton Smith, and profusely illustrated with Original 
Sketches by W. T, Whitehead. 6d. net. 

6,000 TIT-BITS OF CURIOUS INFORMATION. 

Being 6,000 Answers to 6,000 Questions from the 
Enquiry Column of Tit-Bits, in 6 vols., price 2s. 6d. 
each. [Vol. i out of print.] 

■^^■^ Each Volume complete in itself. 



LONDON ; GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



A New Series of 
Popular Books by Popular Authors. 

Crown 8vo, cloth, is. 6d. each. 
MR MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 

By Captain Marryat. 
JANE EYRE. 

By Charlotte Bronte. 
JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN. 

By Miss MULOCK. 
THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 

By Fenimore Cooper. 
SHIRLEY. 

By Charlotte Bronte. 

Sunday Books. 

i6mo, cloth extra, Zd. each, 

THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS and THE OLD 
MAN'S HOME. 
Two Allegories by the Rev. William Adams. With 
Frontispiece to each Allegory. 
THE KING'S MESSENGERS and THE DISTANT 
HILLS. 

Two Allegories by the same author. With Frontis- 
pieces. 

THE COMBATANTS. 

An Allegory by the Rev. Edward Monro. With 

Frontispiece. 
A YEAR OF MIRACLE. 

A Poem in Four Sermons. By W. C. Gannett. 

With four Illustrations. 

Other volumes in due course. 

Under the title of '^Sunday Books" we propose to 
publish from time to time a number of attractive and interest- 
ing books suitable for family Sunday reading. Although 
the majority of the books selected will appeal chiefly to 
the younger members of the family we hope that they will 
all be of such a high standard as to deserve the attention 
of parents and teachers, and to be suitable for small gifts 
and school prizes. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



Serials now in course of 
Publication. 

THE STRAND MAGAZINE. 

6d. monthly cases for binding, is. 

WIDE WORLD MAGAZINE. 

6d. monthly ; cases for binding, is. 6d. 

TIT-BITS. id. weekly; cases for binding, is. 

HOME MAGAZINE. 

A Journal for Sunday and week-day reading; id. 
weekly ; cases for binding, is. 6d. 

WOMAN'S LIFE. id. weekly ; cases for binding, is. 

THE HUB. 

id., an Illustrated Weekly Journal for Wheelmen and 
Women ; cases for binding, is. 

THE NAVY AND ARMY ILLUSTRATED. 
6d. weekly ; cases for binding, 2s. 6d. 

COUNTRY LIFE ILLUSTRATED. 

6d. weekly ; cases for binding, 2s. 6d., cloth ; 6s., half 
morocco. 

LADIES' FIELD. 6d. weekly. 

THE CITIZEN'S ATLAS AND GAZETTEER. 
6d. fortnightly ; cases for binding, 3s., cloth ; 4s. 6d., 
half morocco. 

HANS ANDERSEN'S FAIRY TALES. 

With upwards of 400 Illustrations by Helen 
Stratton. In fourteen fortnightly parts, price yd. 
each. 

THE PENNY LIBRARY OF FAMOUS BOOKS, 
id. Weekly. 

Notable Books. 

I. 

THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 

With Map and 250 Illustrations. In 12 Fortnightly 
Parts, 6d. each. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



Sixpenny Editions of 
Copyright Novels. 

Well printed^ on good paper^ Svo, sewed, 

THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. 
By A. CoNAN Doyle. 

LAST ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. 

By A. CONAN DOYLE. 

THE SIGN OF FOUR: AN EARLY ADVENTURE 
OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. 

By A. CONAN DOYLE. 

ROBERT ELSMERE. 

By Mrs HUMPHREY Ward. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



New Popular School Books. 



Tit-Bits Copy Books. 

A New Series of Copy Books designed to produce clear, 
bold, and rapid writing. There are no flourishes or fanciful 
pecuharities. The style is simple, uniform, and entirely 
without exaggerations. The slope is 15' from the vertical. 
The Series consists of 1 5 Books of 24 pages, price 2d. each. 

1. LARGE HAND.— Elements. Easy Letters. Short 

Words. With aids in the form of outlined letters, 
space marks, etc. 

2. LARGE AND HALF-TEXT. — Elements. Long 

Letters. More difficult Short Words of Long and 
Short Letters. With aids. 

3. SPECL-\L ARITHMETICAL NUMBER. — Arith- 

metical Copies and Exercises. Half-Text Hand. With 
Easy Capitals. 

4. LARGE AND HALF-TEXT.— Short Words and Easy 

Capitals. Grammatical Definitions. Simple Poetr}'. 

5. LARGE AND HALF-TEXT.— Capitals and more 

difficult Words. Elementary Geographical Definitions 
and Information. 

6. SPECIAL ARITHMETICAL NUMBER. — Arith- 

metical Copies and Exercises in the Four Simple Rules. 
Tables. 

7. INTRO. TO SMALL HAND.— Grammatical Defini- 

tions and Poetry. 

8. FIRST SMALL HAND. — Physical and Political 

Geography of England and Wales. Facts and Dates 
in Early English History. 

9. SPECIAL ARITHMETICAL NUMBER. — Arith- 

metical Copies and Exercises. Four Simple Rules, with 
Long Division, Addition; and Subtraction of Money. 

10. SMALL HAND. — Grammar Parsing ^Models. Geo- 

graphical Terms simply explained and illustrated by 
reference to the Map of the World. 

11. SMALL HAND.— British History and Biography 

down to 1603. 

12. S:^IALL HAND.— British History and Biography 

from 1603. Physical and Political Geography of the 
British Isles. Advanced writing. 

13. SMALL HAND. — Ordinary and Commercial Cor- 

respondence, Letters, and Addresses. Invitation and 
other Forms. 

14. S:MALL hand.— Modern Enghsh History. The 

reign of Queen Victoria. 

15. SMALL HAND. — The Colonies and foreign posses- 

sions of Great Britain — acquisition and growth. 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



New Popular School Books. 
Systematic Moral Instruction. 



The Golden Rule Readers. 

Book I. — Crown 8vo, Cloth, 212 pages, is. 3d. 
Book II. — Crown 8vo, Cloth, 236 pages, is. 6d. 

Just what Evening School Teachers want. 

Confound That Boy!" 

A Manual of Book-Keeping and Office Routine. 
Crown 8vo, Cloth, price is. 

Tit- Bits Monster Table 
Book 

British, Foreign and Colonial Weights, Measures and 
Money. Tables of Distances, Tables of Quantities, 
and a variety of Useful Information. Uniform 
with the " Penny Library." 
The Biggest and Best Table Book on the Market. 
80 pages, id. 

Tit- Bits Monster Cookery 
Book 

80 pages, id. 
No foreign phrases or fanciful concoctions. 

Tit-Bits 
Monster Recitation Book 

80 pages, id. 

Gives a splendid selection of poems for recitation 
suitable for all ages, together with hints on 
Elocution — how to stand, what to do with the 
hands, etc. 

LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



FISH 

DOGS 

HORSES 

TENNIS 

GOLF 

RACING 

SOCIETY 

HUNTING 

AND ALL SORTS OF 

OUT-DOOR SPORT 

ARE FEATURES OF 

Country Life 

The Most Beautifully 
Illustrated Paper in 
the World 

Price Sixpence 



LONDON : GEORGE NEWNES LLMITED, PUBLISHERS. 



